


The Ocarina Tale

by Laina_Inverse



Series: Triforce Reunification [4]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Gerudo headcanon, LOTS of Headcanon really, M/M, Multi, Multiship, NaNo fic, OoT deconstruction/reconstruction, Yes this is tied to the other three stories, first person fic, oc fic, polyship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 116,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5128130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laina_Inverse/pseuds/Laina_Inverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raiha is a lot older than most people know. When thoughtless words stir up memories she's unwilling to talk about, her three lovers instead get to read her journals and discover some small part of what she's gone through in her long life. (A retelling of Ocarina of Time, told via journals. Bonus polyshipping?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue

 

It was raining that day, which was why she had decided to stay in the study. Zelda's study was much more cozy than the Royal Archives, and much better laid out; organizing the archives was a bit of a haphazard project, taken in slow steps at best. Raiha glanced absently down at the notes she was making, Zelda working at her own desk with quiet contentment, then got up to seek a new book that would help her identify the time period she was thinking of.

Tetra came bounding in on the stick-pony Link had made for her, blowing an imaginary horn as she darted around the room, though the little princess was careful to keep clear of her two working mothers. Raiha chuckled a little; the little blonde girl had turned five the week before, and was very excited by the idea that she was going to be an older sister in a few months. This was proved a minute later when Tetra bounced gleefully over and gave Raiha a hug, one hand landing on her only-slightly protruding belly.

“When do I get to meet my new brother an sissy?” she asked, bouncing up on her toes. “Mama?”

Raiha blinked, smiling down in a bemused way.

“Brother and sister?” she echoed, raising en eyebrow. “What if it's two brothers, or two sisters?”

“Nu uh! It's gonna be a brother and a sister!” Tetra insisted, hand firmly planted on Raiha's stomach. “They said so! ...Mama? Mama, what's wrong?”

It felt like the world had dropped out from under her, really. She shouldn't have been surprised by this turn of events; as small as her magic was, Zelda still _had_ some, and Raiha hadn't been kidding when she'd suggested that the little girl would be able to cast spell in the near future... but she certainly hadn't expected a moment like _that_.

“Raiha?” Zelda's worried voice cut through the sudden spike of memory. “What's wrong, dear?”

“I...”

She closed her eyes. One hand found Tetra's head and tousled the fluffy blonde hair.

“It's... nothing,” she finally said. “I'm all right. So, I'm going to have a boy _and_ a girl?”

Tetra nodded emphatically, though the small child still looked quite worried. Raiha did her best to give the child a reassuring smile, trying to ease her white-knuckled grip on the shelf.

“Tetra, dear, why don't you go ask Papa to give you a lesson in the area?” Zelda suggested, rising from her chair. “It'll keep him from getting too bored.”

And Ganon would be kept distracted by the little girl, which was precisely what Raiha wanted at the moment. Tetra thought about it, then nodded, and 'galloped' her way out of the room, though not without one last backwards glance at Raiha.

When the door closed, Raiha leaned against the shelf, and let out a shuddering breath. Zelda did not rush, but she was over by her side in a few graceful strides, gently putting an arm around the taller woman.

“You looked as pale as a sheet,” the queen said gently. “Are you certain you're all right?”

“I....” Raiha sighed, and leaned against Zelda slightly. “I'm sorry, Zel, I really... I don't want to talk about it.”

“...all right. Why don't you come sit down, then? You would never hear the end of it if Ganon or Link heard you fell down.”

The redhead smiled ruefully, allowing herself to be led back over to the couch, which she sank down onto gratefully. Nayru's tears, but she had never expected little Tetra to develop _that_ sort of thing. Prophetic dreams were more an indicator of magical talent in Zelda's line. That certain knowing, that intuitive touch....

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, then ran a hand across her face tiredly. Just the certainty of the child had stirred up so many old, painful memories...

“....is there anything I can do to help, dear?” Zelda's voice was soft, gentle.

“I'll be all right, it just...” Raiha laughed a little, a surprisingly hopeless sound. “Old memories. Very very old. I don't... I don't like remembering that time period. I don't like having to remember, and most of the time it's so... so muted because of how old it is. She didn't mean to, but that...”

She just shook her head lightly and sighed. Zelda gave her a soft hug, leaning her head against Raiha's shoulders. After a moment though, the redhead shook her head a little and stood.

“I'm sorry, I... I need some space. I can't...”

She glanced down at Zelda, winced at the overt concern, then looked away.

“I brought my journals back from the Zora,” she said after a long minute. “The top three should tell you the story. Get Gan to read them, I wrote in Gerudo for a reason... Back of the library, near the broken sconce. He'll understand.”

Before Zelda could respond, Raiha left, heading straight for her room. She'd take the message pouch and some supplies so that they wouldn't worry, but she needed the clear waters of the lake to calm her spinning mind.

 

-

 

Zelda worried. Of course she did, she loved Raiha, and that had not been typical Raiha behavior.

Well, all right, in part it had been. Raiha rarely mentioned past events, and it was clearer now why she didn't. For all she had lived through, no doubt she had more painful memories than happy ones, and Zelda could somewhat understand the desire to live in the moment. Ganon was very much the same.

Of course, she had told Tetra to go ask Ganon for pony-riding lessons, so interrupting that wouldn't go so well....

After a moment the queen of Hyrule got up from the couch and headed to the Royal Archives. She had a feeling she knew where the journals were, and after Tetra was put to bed, she would ask Ganon to read them, as Raiha had said he could.

As she made her way to the archives, Link caught up with her, rainwater dripping from his hair. Zelda smiled fondly at him, slowing her steps.

“What's wrong?” he asked. “I thought you were in the study with Rai?”

“I was,” Zelda nodded a little. “Tetra said something that.... upset her. Not on purpose! But that was the end result. Raiha needed... some alone time, but she said we could read her journals to understand why. So I was going to collect them so that we could do that after Tetra has gone to bed.”

Link's brows drew together in concern, but Zelda caught his wrist before he could step away.

“No, let her be for the moment,like she desires,” she said gently. “When she is ready to see us again, then she will.”

“I know, but...”

Zelda smiled sympathetically; of the three of them, Link was the one who had the worst time when it came to letting Raiha be by herself when she needed it. He was attached in a way the queen didn't entirely understand, but after some discussion, had come to accept.

“Don't fuss. You know she doesn't like it. We'll have a much better chance of seeing her sooner if we just give her the space she desires.”

After all, if she hadn't meant it, she wouldn't have left so quickly.

Link hesitated a moment longer, then nodded reluctantly, making Zelda smile.

“Come, she said the journals were in the archives, near a broken sconce. If we find them, we can have them ready for Ganon to begin reading after everything is settled.”

“Do you really think it'll help?” he asked.

Zelda tipped her head thoughtfully, then offered an uncertain shrug.

“I am not certain, but she did give her permission. And I would like to understand... She went so pale, for a moment I thought she might faint. If the journals tell us why that was so unnerving for her, perhaps it will help us avoid causing her future pains. If nothing else, the knowledge of what she went through might ease our own feelings of guilt and frustrations when she tries pushing us away because of an incautiously said phrase.”

Link nodded again, though he couldn't help glancing over his shoulder. Zelda smiled faintly, fondly, in understanding.

“She will be all right. If not for our sake, then for the babies' health and well-being. It will, I hope, come out all right.”

 

-

 

Putting Tetra to bed took more time than typical that evening; it had been discovered that Raiha had left the palace entirely, and as Raiha was usually in charge of the bedtime story—something the redhead had actively enjoyed herself—it took some doing to convince the little girl that her mama was not upset with her, and that story time would still happen, but it would be one of the other three, and not her mama.

Naturally by the time the small child fell asleep in the middle of Link reading the book, they were all rather worn out.

“She picks the worst time to get emotional,” Ganon grumbled, though his words were laced with concern more than actual anger. “She shouldn't go alone...”

“She's more capable of caring for herself at the moment than we are,” Zelda said quietly, hands folded in her lap. “And she won't feel comforted by our concern, not when we don't understand the why behind the words.”

His hands clenched tight briefly, then he sighed in resignation. Zelda was, in this case, absolutely correct. It drove him crazy the way the redhead would just withdraw at times, but could he really blame her? Years of living within his own personal hell had made him more sensitive than most to the emotional scars and weight she still unconsciously carried, but even he had tripped up more than once.

Link closed the door to Zelda's personal parlor behind him, then flopped into a chair with a weary sigh, adding another level to the Gerudo male's guilt. He knew with a sharp sting, just how much Raiha cared about Link, and how much that affection was returned. It had been that way from the beginning, he thought, though his memories of those times were so hazy...

After a moment, he looked to the three journals on the low table.

“She really said we could read these?” he asked.

“She did. Rather, she said you could read them, since they were written in the Gerudo language, which, theoretically, you ought to know,” Zelda smiled a little sadly. “I had hoped you would read them to us, but if you would prefer to only read them to yourself, I will understand.”

He hesitated, then shook his head a little, settling onto a chair of his own.

“No, I'll read them out loud. But it'll probably take a while to go through it all...”

“We can do it in pieces,” Zelda replied firmly. “But I think we need to do it, if we have any hopes of understanding why it caused her so much distress.”

Link just nodded, leaning forward a little in his chair. After a minute, Ganon nodded as well, curious and concerned, then reached out and picked up one of the journals.

“At least she was obliging enough to mark the order,” he muttered, looking at the marks on the leather cover. “Huh... Ocarina tale?”

“She said the top three would give us what we needed,” Zelda said with a slight nod. “I think the other three reference the Twilight Incident.”

Ganon nodded again, then cracked the journal open and began to read.


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raiha's past, Gerudo lore, and how she met the Princess of Destiny

One

 

I'm not sure why I'm doing this. It's not like it'll even matter in this world I'm in now, in this world where the situation has been changed so thoroughly that the initial event was stopped, even if the outcome, the shattering, still somehow happened...

Maybe I'm just doing this because it's starting to not feel real. But I know that it was. My unchanging body is proof of that. My mandate...

I don't even know where to start. Where _does_ this story begin? Not with me, I think.

I think the story really begins with the Triforce. What it can do, what it can cause, and what it has caused.

Hyrule is a pretty war-torn country. Everyone wanting the Triforce, but also the forces that want to protect it. I'm still waiting for the Sages to be born; we have to move the Temple of Time to a safer place, to a place where people can't reach it, or the sword, easily. Attached to the castle's town as it is currently, it's just begging to have events repeat indefinitely.

Events that I never would have been involved in, if not for my big mouth.

There's so many words I have about this. I don't really think I have a lot of coherency, but I have to try, I have to get this _down_ if I want to have someone understand why this is all so personal to me. The Triforce, the Hero, the Princess, the Enemy...

All right. Let's skip over the Triforce legends. Whoever's reading this no doubt knows what they are, so rehashing them all would be pointless. We'll start, then, with the Gerudo.

My people are nomadic by nature. The desert has been ours, always, with only the mildest of ties to Hyrule. Mostly just the pass, and the fact that there are many available Hylian males with which my people have mated.

Common legend and lore will tell you that this is because my tribe only consists of females, with one male born every century. According to law, that lone male will be elected as our king.

That's only half right. The truth is a lot harsher, a lot darker, and I never did learn how it became tradition. Yes, we tend towards bearing more girl babies than boys, but boys are not vanishingly rare. Boys.... boys are killed. If they're not the first one born after the death of the previous king, they are not allowed to survive.

Some do anyways. Gerudo mothers are just the same as other mothers; we defend our babies with our lives in many cases. Well, maybe not like all other mothers. Our choices are let the boy be given to the desert or leave the tribe.

For us, the tribe is life. The desert may be ours, but it is a harsh, unforgiving place. The sun strips away moisture, and the moon freezes the air. You have to be strong, harsh, and hardy to survive, among other traits. Stubborn was definitely one of them.

But without the tribe, there is danger. Hylians were not huge fans of Gerudo. We had to steal from them to ensure our survival, and while enticing men was definitely the way to go to get babies, to continue our tribe's life would continue, we didn't generally consider love from outside sources. Our love came from within, from the mothers, aunts, sisters, and cousins that we shared our lives with, that we trained with, that had our backs.

We were not a large group; Gerudo generally number between two and three-hundred women at most, and one king. That's the most our life in the desert, and stealing from over the border, could sustain. But... it wasn't a _bad_ life. It was hard, it was challenging, it was _frustrating_ at times, but it wasn't.... bad. We lived, we had our seasonal celebrations, we had our own languages, stories, songs, and skills. You haven't really learned how to ride a horse unless a Gerudo has taught you. Same with shooting a bow. We even had our own individual magical skills, a far cry from the way Hylians use magic.

Yes, I am talking up my tribe. Because we're gone now, and it's mostly my fault we are. The other part is that _asshole's_ fault... but in this world, in this time....

That's a different story, though. A different layer of guilt that I don't want to think about right now.

So.

Let's go back to how this all started.

My big mouth.

I won't deny it. I'm opinionated. Even as a child, raised among my sisters and cousins, I tended towards speaking my mind more than most. I was honest, because there was no reason to lie, and I was loud. I was also... to put it kindly, different. And not just because I blew up the equipment my people use to test for magical ability, though that certainly didn't _help_.

My coloring is lighter than a typical Gerudo. My skin, my hair... Showing more of the Hylian heritage than my sisters and cousins.

My hair is more orange than red, and if I spend enough time out in the sun, it gains streaks of true blonde. My skin is a paler brown that can be darkened with exposure to the sun, but it was noticeable when I was in the group of girls. My eyes, amusingly enough, are a darker gold. The color of amber, or honey, instead of bright buttercup yellow.

All of this was noticeable. Most of the time, it was so thoroughly ignored that I never felt any different. Sometimes it was remarked upon in complimentary ways, ways that made me feel happy. I didn't mind standing out, not then. I reveled in it, as only a child can. I wasn't doted on, not really, but all of us girls were the future, and we were everything to the tribe.

It's funny. I can look on it now, having finally actually been part of the tribe, having experienced what I didn't have the first time around, and realize that we were not necessarily a good people, but we weren't cruel either. Survival took place over all else, but in layers under that was love that was strong and fierce.

It was that love that saved my life.

When I was eight, my mother—and yes, we know our mothers, even being raised communally as we were—became pregnant again. A younger sibling for me was very exciting, as some of my friends also had little sisters. Sometimes they were _annoying_ little sisters, but family was family, and we put up with all of them. Watching my mother change, knowing that someday, I might be the one with the big belly and new daughter... it was exciting.

It was.... until my magic told me something different.

As children, we never asked why there was only girls. It was accepted as fact because it's what we were told. Ganondorf had been born some twenty years before, and was our king at the time, and our lives were subtly more prosperous than they had been before; at least, that was what the other adults said.

I made the mistake of opening my mouth while in the huge gathering; I had just come from another lesson in horseback archery, my favorite things at the time, and had been so excited about my successes—a dozen bullseyes with twenty arrows, a new record for me—that I had hugged her tightly.

Magic, when it's first manifesting, can cause some strange things. In Zelda, it's always caused prophetic dreams, a subtle sort of intuition that she has used, both in the past, and the current time, to help navigate rather dangerous historical moments. In me...

A knowing. Sharp and firm. I've always been able to know who I could trust with a secret, and who would have the biggest mouth, but this knowing was different. I knew, without any shadow of a doubt, that I was going to be big sister to a baby boy.

Being only eight at the time, not realizing that this should have been said when it was just me and my mother, I asked the first question that came to mind.

“Is the king going to die soon?”

My mother stared at me as silence rippled outward, then laughed awkwardly, causing others to laugh more genuinely.

“No, of course not, Raiha,” she said, no doubt seeing that their laughter was annoying me. “That's a strange question. Our king is strong and healthy, and will live for many many more years!”

“But...” I sat on the bench when she pointed, obedient, despite my big mouth. “If the king isn't going to die soon, then why am I going to have a baby brother?”

The silence that fell this time was deafening. It was like I had stolen the voices of every woman there, and it was oppressive enough that I shrank down on the bench. My mother had gone very pale, as had a few of my aunts, and all of them were sharing looks that suggested I had done something wrong.

“That's nonsense dear,” my mother finally said, patting my head with a shaking hand. “I'm going to give you a little sister.”

“But-”

“Hush. We'll tell her this story when she gets older, and she'll call you a big silly head.”

“But!”

“Raiha,” this was one of my aunts, giving me a fierce look. “That's enough girl. Eat your supper.”

There wasn't much to be done for it. I sulked, but I obeyed, and slowly, talk resumed around me. There was an air to it, however, that left me feeling afraid. It was forced chatter, forced laughter... and my mother didn't fully regain her color.

Indeed, when it was time to return to our room in the compound—built snug against the hills as protection from invasion and sandstorms both—she seemed afraid. Even as a child I could see it. After an hour of her flitting around the room, dropping curtains and closing doors, she finally turned back to me, and crouched to be more on my level.

“You're certain about that, sweetheart?” she asked quietly. “A boy?”

I nodded.

“He said so,” I told her not understanding why this was a bad thing. “Mama, what's wrong?”

She had started crying, silent tears that spoke to me of a deep grief.

“Little one, we have a king,” she said quietly. “We don't need another one...”

“But he'd be my brother, not a king,” I protested, confused.

My mother just shook her head, and sat on the stool near our low table. I was, technically speaking, too old to climb into her lap—not to mention there wasn't a lot of room for me, considering the size of her belly—but I did it anyways, and she hugged me as she cried.

I didn't know then that she was planning to leave. My mother knew how to keep a secret.

The next two weeks passed without incident, though things were somewhat more subdued around the compound, uncertain silences following both my mother and me wherever we went. Slowly, things began appearing in our room, things my mother would need for the journey to Hyrule, things _I_ would need to survive in a land I had only heard rumors about.

I was not necessarily the _smartest_ child. I didn't understand what was happening until it did.

When we finally left, it was secretly, in the middle of the night. My mother had drugged my food to avoid me waking up in the middle of the event and ruining the planning, so I knew nothing from the time I went to sleep until I woke in a room I didn't recognize, with the sounds of the market filtering in through a shuttered window.

The room, when I sat up blearily to look around, was small in comparison to what I would occupy as a house now. But it was bigger than the room at the compound, and for a moment, I was in awe, though the awe was quickly replaced by confusion. I didn't recognize the sounds, and the air was... damp. Cooler than I thought air could get without the biting chill of a desert night.

I stayed in the bed for a while, and just studied the room. It was an open room, more or less. The bed I was in was tucked near a large fireplace that would keep the room warm when it rained—something I found shocking the first time I experienced it—and there was a small table and stool in the middle. Near the bed was a chest that I learned held clothing, and near the table were a handful of cupboards that held food that wouldn't spoil any time soon, as well as dishes and things that would make cooking less of a chore.

When I eventually pulled myself out of the bed, I wrapped the blanket around me and made my way to the table where I found a letter pinned under a cup. It was from my mother.

 

_I am sorry. I couldn't leave you there, but I cannot take you with me any farther than this. You are in Hyrule, my daughter. In the town at the foot of the royal castle itself. It is the only place where you might have a chance at surviving to grow up._

_Raiha... your brother would not be allowed to live. Only one male Gerudo is born every century, after all. But I want to keep this baby, because he will be_ my _son. Unfortunately, to do this, I cannot remain with our people. You'll understand when you're older, or maybe you won't. I always thought I would..._

_This house is a safe place for you. We do not willingly walk onto the grounds around the Temple of Time, but you, my daughter, will probably be safest here. Be careful. Though I have chosen to leave you here, the reputation of the Gerudo means that you will not be well liked. Cover your hair, and try to avoid going out in the brightest lights. I know you have only begun learning how to steal, and if I had a choice..._

_If I can, little one, someday your brother and I will come for you. Until then, you need to survive. Keep your head down, never take more than you need, and_ never _approach another Gerudo._

 _I have it on good authority that the girls who are to be trained in our ancient magics are really sacrifices to the longevity of our king's mothers, and I_ will not _have that be your fate._

_I love you, Raiha._

 

Most of it, I didn't understand. Not really. She had left me here, in a place I knew nothing about, with skills that I had only just started developing, and chosen to take herself and my unborn brother away to a place where I could not follow. It felt, then, like betrayal more than sacrifice.

To be fair, I was eight. I had no idea of the deeper meanings to our traditions, and I had no way of understanding that she had just saved my life.

I never wanted revenge. I wanted her to come back, yes. I wanted her to be with me, I wanted to meet my baby brother. But I never wanted revenge. I just wanted to go _home_.

For all the longing and all the desire I had, I stayed as she had bid me. What else was I to do? I didn't know the way back to the desert, and even if I had, a lone Gerudo makes for easy prey. I learned that lesson quickly, and soon was going out only after covering my hair, and wrapping a muslin strip around my eyes. Most people thought I was blind when I did that, or suffered from some sort of light sensitivity.

Really, it was just an effort to prevent more bruising. My mother had been right; the Gerudo reputation was definitely _not_ a good one in this city. But because the city was so large, I could easily slip into and out of crowds, picking up five rupees here, a twenty there, and sometimes I would get extremely lucky and have enough not just to eat, but to play the archery game that was in the main market square.

The house I lived in was close to the Temple of Time, and as my mother had said—and I observed—Gerudo tended to avoid it. I didn't entirely understand why myself; the grounds just felt like ground, and the interior of the temple was peaceful. I often escaped into it, hiding in a corner and soaking up the peace of the place. It was, for the most part, my own personal haven. Gerudo weren't the only ones who avoided the temple. In truth, almost no one entered.

Despite this, it was always clean. I never entirely understood, but then, I was just young enough to accept that it was the way it was, and that was enough. Of course, I was Gerudo enough to be utterly _scandalized_ , at first, at how much water these people wasted. A fountain, of all things, in the center of town.

Remembering now makes me smile.

I learned wary caution; not everyone my age was a sister. Not everyone older than me would look out for me. Looking out for myself wasn't easy, but in the two years I lived there, I managed it. I befriended—barely—a handful of children around my age. One was Malon, the daughter of the rancher who delivered milk to the castle on a regular basis. Her red hair made me feel a kinship with her, and she never seemed to mind the accent, the dark skin, or the fact that I hid my eyes.

She was a kind girl, really. Cheerful, and almost always singing, she taught me more about the Market and how it worked than I would have learned just by observations. Sure she had some silly fantasies—being rescued by a prince was just _strange_ to me—but by being her friend, I also got to continue riding horses. Her father had offered—and I had considered—to let me live with them on their ranch as playmate and helper, but ultimately I was just a visitor, and I had come to rather like the bustling activity of the Market. While the people weren't all family, the chatter was comforting.

The other person I could call a true friend, I had made entirely by accident. Generally when Princess Zelda went to the Market, there was usually fanfare and fawning, and the princess dressed up like it was some sort of festival or party. There was also more guards than usual, making it difficult to pick pockets for the money I would need to have food for the day.

This day was different. There were no extra guards, there wasn't even Impa, the Sheikah woman who would later become my teacher for some very specific skills. Instead, there was a young blond girl walking around, blue eyes taking in the sights around her as though she was from out of town. She was dressed nicely, of course, but a far cry from the royal gowns that she would normally wear.

I saw a tourist. Easy mark, easy money. She wasn't even trying to hide the pouch that would contain her money. If I'd wanted to, I could have stolen then entire thing, quick as a blink, and never looked back, but I didn't want to be _that_ noticeable. I just wanted enough that I wouldn't have to do this for a few days.

I touched the pouch, and froze as my magic told me the truth of who this girl was. Or maybe it was the Ocarina in the pouch. Either way...

She was a year older than me at best, but that didn't stop me from grabbing her by one wrist—much to her surprise—and pulling her off in the direction of the Temple of Time. I wasn't angry, I was _afraid_. Which, naturally, made me rather snappish.

“Are you _nuts?”_ I finally demanded once we were in a safe place. “You shouldn't _be_ here!”

She gave me a bewildered look, then stared as I yanked off the strip of muslin, wincing a little at the bright sunlight flooding into the temple. I didn't bother with the hat; my eyebrows were orange enough to give away my race if nothing else.

“You are either the most _reckless_ person I've ever met—and that says a lot because my cousins once climbed to the top of the compound and _jumped off_ to test their landing skills—or you have absolutely _zero idea_ how vulnerable you actually are on your own!” I snapped. “Do you have any _idea_ how fast someone our size can get snatched off the streets? Especially without that freaky white-haired lady that watches your back!”

She blinked at me, repeatedly, and I made a frustrated noise.

“That... that was the point, though,” she protested after a minute. “I cannot come here on my own, and I... I wished to see what it was like without everyone knowing who I was...”

I muttered a few words that most children my age didn't know, which made her eyes go wide.

“Look,” I said with exaggerated patience, “you're the princess, so you probably don't get this, but kids vanish _real_ easy here, okay? _Especially_ kids that are on their own, who look like they have money. Ransom is the least of it, and that's if they figure out you're too valuable to use!”

“How do you...?”

“Because I _live_ down here, Princess. Your city isn't always a great place.” I paused, then thought about the question. “Or do you mean how did I tag you?”

“...both, I suppose?”

“Iunno. I just... knew,” I shrugged a little and looked away. “It happens like that sometimes. I just.. _know_ , and stuff.”

Zelda was quiet for several minutes, but she looked more thoughtful than upset.

“Can you show me how to blend in? I would like to come to the city on my own, but if you are correct, and this is not as safe a place as I believed...”

I blinked. Then snorted.

“I am _so_ not the person you wanna talk to about something like that. I _can't_ blend in. I can only hide what's obvious about me, and even that doesn't really work...”

“Because you're Gerudo?”

I shrugged, then nodded.

“Yeah. Your people don't really _like_ my people.”

“Your people steal from my people,” Zelda countered.

“ _My_ people live in a _desert_. Your lands are lush and full of everything we _don't_ have,” I retorted. “You guys have water to _waste_ for Din's sake! Our water comes from the valley falls, _if we're lucky!_ ”

I had surprised her with this admission, and she looked like she was torn between uncertainty and pity. I just groaned and scrubbed at my face. I really just wanted her to go away by that point, she was stressing me out, and making me think of my people, the people I missed so much that there were entire days where I wanted to scream.

“...you are correct, there seems to be many things I do not yet understand,” she said finally. “But I would _like_ to understand them...”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” I muttered waspishly. “You don't live like we do. You have a safe home, a thousand guards, people to do _anything_ you want. The likelihood of you actually getting it is nil.”

I had meant the words to sting. I could see that they did, but Zelda had poise and control even then. Instead of yelling back as pretty much any other kid I knew would have—yes, even Malon, though she understood what it was to work hard—she reached out and caught up my hand. I nearly jumped out of my skin in surprise.

“Again, you are correct. But I would like to _try_. I do not want to rule a kingdom where other children can tell me that they live in fear of being harmed, or have to steal to survive. I would like, if it is possible, for the alliances my father has with the people in Hyrule to extend to those who live outside of it.”

Most of it went over my head. But I got the feeling again, that knowing. She was sincere in her desire; she wanted to be a good princess, and someday, a good queen.

After a moment I sighed, and pulled off my hat so I could scratch my head.

“You're _weird_ ,” I finally told her, as she stared more at my hair than she did at my face. “And kinda dumb. But I guess you're not _that_ bad. Dunno what help I could be though; I'm just a kid too...”

She smiled at me, and I felt my heart do a funny flip in my chest. It was such an honest, open smile that I couldn't help but feel awkward, even at that age. Zelda is a charmer when she wants to be. Always.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“...Raiha,” I said after a moment.

“Rai....ha... That's a nice name. You may call me Zelda. If I am to not be a noble,” she said before I could protest. “If I am to act as a normal child for however long I can, being called 'princess' would give me away, yes?”

“Wait, wait, hold on, I never agreed t-”

“Come! You can play games with me, until Impa comes to fetch me~”

Zelda was a bit of a force of nature. Despite my protests, she pulled my out of the temple, out into broad daylight. She did, at least, have the grace to wait while I put my hat back on, but she refused to let me put the muslin back over my eyes. Instead, she dragged me around the market, passing up the rupees to play the games, and buy the food.

It was probably the most fun I'd had in the year I'd lived there. Bombchu bowling, playing as many rounds of the archery game as I wanted—she wasn't the best shot, but she learned quick enough—playing a treasure hunting game... For a while, I even forgot that I was supposed to be paying attention to our surroundings, since she obviously wasn't.

That was how her attendant finally caught up to us. Though to be fair, I'm still convinced that she was following Zelda from the get-go, and was just letting her have this moment of rebellion to let her get it out of her system. Sheikah magic is very subtle; when they want to vanish, they _vanish_ , and the only way you see them is if they let you.

It was a neat trick, one that took me the next year to learn.

Anyways.

Night was falling when Impa just _appeared_ , making both of us jump. We'd stopped to decide what to do next, sitting on the fountain to catch our breaths. Naturally, I fell _into_ the fountain. Zelda, at least, didn't laugh as I sat up, spitting water and curses both.

Impa looked me over, her expression somewhere between amused and appalled, as Zelda pulled me out of the water. I wasn't stupid enough to challenge her for it—she was an adult, and more importantly, the princess's guardian—but I _really_ wanted to.

“Thank you for looking after the princess today,” she said quietly, calmly. “It is time for her to return home now.”

Zelda looked down at her toes, plainly hearing a scolding that I didn't. Part of me was rather churlishly glad that she was in trouble for sneaking out, but the other part of me, that had grown attached to this weird girl, wanted me to stick up for her.

So I turned to the princess and grinned.

“We'll play again later.”

She blinked those blue, blue eyes at me, then smiled back.

“Okay!”

Impa didn't seem displeased by the idea; if anything she gave me a very small smile, then escorted the princess in the direction of the palace.

I went home to change into dry clothes.


	3. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeing Ganondorf, meeting Link, and agreeing to something she doesn't want to do...

Two

 

Being friends with Zelda wasn't actually that hard. Sure, she couldn't come down to the market a lot, but I was stealthy enough to sneak up to the palace, and sometimes could even stay a few days if I was especially careful. Impa didn't stop me, or try to call the guards.... if anything, she seemed pleased by my presence, and even agreed to teach me things when the princess was busy with her lessons.

This was how I first met Sheik.

It wasn't common knowledge that Zelda actually had a twin brother. In point of fact, it wasn't knowledge at all; the only ones who knew were the king who had ordered it, Impa, and Sheik himself because Impa did not believe in keeping him in the dark. Not even Zelda knew that this boy who trained with her nurse was her brother, and he seemed perfectly content to leave it that way. Granted, I didn't learn this fact until much later myself. I was used to seeing blond Hylians everywhere I went, and training with one wasn't too surprising.

He was a nice boy, really. When he wasn't in training mode—where he usually kicked my ass under the guise of helping me improve—he was quieter than Zelda, but his smile was quick, and it didn't take much effort to produce. While I could only discuss some things with Zelda, I got the feeling that Sheik understood _more_ than she did, and the filter just seemed to fall around him.

The trouble didn't start until I had been sneaking into the palace for a year. I was ten. Sheik and Zelda had just turned eleven. It was closing in on summer, and I was finally feeling like life wasn't trying to kick me any longer.

That week, Ganondorf and a handful of Gerudo rode into town.

The day it happened, I was having a lazy moment; I had food at home, so I didn't have to steal for the day, I had a lesson after lunch with Impa and Sheik that I was looking forward too, and no one had harassed me all day. It was, all in all, a good day.

At least until I realized that crowds were gathering, and they weren't the good kind. The mutterings I could catch were uneasy. Some were frightened, others were angry.

Me, I was curious, and a little concerned; crowds like this could turn into mobs rather quickly, and those tended to ruin my whole week. Sometimes longer if anti-Gerudo feelings ran particularly high. Just because I had recently mastered the Sheikah invisibility trick didn't mean I was going to be any less cautious than normal, so I found an out of the way spot behind some crates, near the guards who watched the entrance to Palace Way.

I was not happy to do this when I realized _why_ the crowds were so uneasy today.

Ganondorf was a large man, his Gerudo heritage clear for all to see. He wore no crown, just the jewel on his forehead that signal sovereignty to my people, but he held himself upright, straight as a pole on his black horse, and had an arrogance to his bearing that was unmistakeable. He had brought with him four guardswomen, none of whom I recognized, each wearing ceremonial armor. They showed no outward signs of discomfort in this cooler land, and their polearms kept people from getting too close.

I froze in my hiding place; something about him absolutely _screamed_ wrong to me. He was not making the effort to seem affable to the people he was riding through, his eyes were instead focused fully on the palace road that was ahead of him.

Part of me wanted to bolt, run to the palace ahead of him and tell the princess that trouble was coming. The saner part of my mind held me utterly still, certain that if I didn't move, he wouldn't see me.

I was, naturally, wrong. I don't know entirely if he spotted me because of the Sheikah magic, or if I moved... I don't _think_ I moved, but every part of me was so filled with fear at the sight of this man that I might have.

For whatever reason, he pulled up his horse, and turned his head to look directly at me. If I thought I was frozen before, I held so stock still at that moment that I didn't even _breathe,_ and when he moved on, I all but collapsed behind the crates, shaking and light-headed. I couldn't even get myself to stand for a good five minutes, and it took a further ten to bring myself to step out from behind the crates and go home.

Once there, I huddled in the bed, wrapped in the blankets that I had bought or stolen, and considered what options I had.

I could leave. Not for long, I told myself, but just long enough for Ganondorf to leave the city himself, after finishing whatever business he'd had in the palace. I decided against that for two reasons; one being Zelda. The other being that I wouldn't _know_ when he left if I ran like a coward.

I could stay. There were only four Gerudo in his entourage, so as long as I _avoided_ them, I should, theoretically, be just fine. I would have to curb my thievery, but I had food from the palace stored in my house, and various caches of rupees squirreled away from times like this.

Staying also meant avoiding the palace. I didn't want to risk the chance that I might come across him, or one of his guards. While Gerudo could, and did, leave the tribe for reasons of their own, children didn't. My mother had, in effect, kidnapped me to save my life, and while I wasn't sure at the time what might happen if I boldly showed my face to them, I was pretty sure it wouldn't be good.

Which meant I wouldn't attend my lessons for the next few days—or however long Ganondorf would be in evidence at the palace—and the only thing I could look forward to was the idea that Malon and her father would be coming in for a delivery soon.

They made a milk run once every two weeks, bringing two large and heavy crates worth of milk to the palace kitchens, as well as making deliveries all over the Market. Talon would make the deliveries himself, and Malon would spend her day in the Market square, playing with whoever would invite her. Or with me, if I found her first.

Talon's cart showed up two days after Ganondorf, much to my relief. However, Malon was nowhere to be seen; instead a boy about my own age jumped down from the back of the cart, looking around him in awe. He was dressed all in green, with blond hair peeking out from under his long hat, a slingshot stuffed in his belt, and a sword and shield strapped to his back.

This was unusually well-armed for a kid my age. It made me curious... and wary. I took extra care with hiding, and followed him as he wandered around the market, looking lost and a lot unnerved by how many people there were. He didn't shy away from people, but I caught several abortive movements like he wanted to.

He was, I decided at the time, clearly not from any place that had a lot of people. I had heard only bare rumors about the Lost Woods, and the eternal children that lived within the shelter of the trees, but everything I'd heard suggested they were only kid stories. No one really _believed_ them.

And while I didn't _need_ to steal that day to make it through to the next, I was bored. I couldn't go up to the palace, and Zelda hadn't been able to come to me. Neither had Sheik, though he had gotten a brief message to me about Ganondorf's arrival, warning me to stay away until he was gone—as though I hadn't already thought of that myself. Usually when I got bored and had a little excess, I would go practice my shooting, but I didn't want to be that close to the palace road.

So I slipped into the crowd, moving casually towards the boy, who had stopped to stare at the baker's trays of bread and sweets. He was, I decided, almost as bad as Zelda had been on her first visit, an obvious pouch stuck to his belt that looked like it might have something of interest in it.

In my defense, again, I was _ten_. I was ten, I was bored, and I was feeling lonely, scared, and isolated all at once. This combination doesn't exactly lead _adults_ to better choices. As a kid? Not a chance.

I considered and discarded the idea of lifting the whole pouch—that would be overkill, even for me, and likely lead to more attention than I wanted. I figured I'd dip my hand in, take what came out, and see if he noticed.

 _He_ didn't notice, but the fairy that had, until that moment, been under his hat, did. Even as she jumped out to whiz around my head in anger, my fingers touched the Kokiri Emerald, otherwise called the Spiritual Stone of the Forest.

For a heartbeat, my world came to an abrupt, immediate, halt. I _felt_ things far more deeply than I had ever felt before. I had never been to a forest, but suddenly I could _feel_ it. The silence that wasn't silent. The way the wind danced among the leaves, and sunlight fell in patches on the moss and loam. The way certain plants would shift, turning to defend their territory, or claim more light.

The boy turned in response to the fairy—Navi was buzzing me with a sound like an electrical spell gone wrong—and my fingers slipped from the stone. The end of the sensation was almost as jarring as its beginning, and I staggered back and away from the boy, tripping over my own two feet. I felt as though I had been training for several hours with Impa and Sheik both, shaking in reaction to something that was vastly powerful, vastly frightening...

The boy,surprised though he was, reached out a hand and caught my arm to keep me from falling. The flood of _knowing_ then nearly negated his help, and only sheer stubborn will kept me from falling over. This boy, though he didn't know it yet, was going to set off something big. Something big, and dangerous, that would effect the whole of Hyrule.

And may Nayru save me, I saw myself as part of it.

The boy blinked at me with eyes the color of the cloudless blue sky overhead, looking uncertain, hopeful, and worried all at once. When I had my balance again, I practically snatched my arm back, still feeling the after-effects of whatever I had touched. I didn't precisely _feel_ any steadier, but I didn't want to be there any longer. I needed space, to try and wrap my mind around what I had just seen, felt, and heard.

Instead of waiting to see what he might say or do, I scampered. Into the crowd first, and then out of it, too rattled to bother with the Sheikah skills I had acquired. I needed the peace of the Temple of Time, where no one would follow.

I had not reckoned on the fairy.

The temple was as deserted as always, much to my relief, and I found a semi-shadowed corner where I could put my back to the wall and sink down to the floor, shuddering. That had been almost as frightening as staring down the Gerudo king, but in a different manner. While being trained in my magic thanks to Impa made me less prone to bursts of abrupt knowing like that, when it hit, it was usually big, and thus far had never involved _anything_ about me.

So lost in my own head was I, that I didn't hear the boots on carpet, and then on stone as the boy approached. Didn't, in fact, notice anything until the boy sat down in front of me and pulled out a stone wrapped in gold. I reacted without thinking, and grabbed his wrist, forcing him to shove it back into the bag.

“What _is_ it with you people?!” I demanded, afraid and angry all at once. “You carry magic items around like they're _toys_ , and not something that could make _very bad things happen!_ ”

Given that I knew for a fact that Zelda carried the Ocarina of Time everywhere she went—she had shown it to me once, and I had almost jumped out of my own skin at the power in the thing—this was not an exaggeration to me. It was just more proof that these people had so much that they could _afford_ to be so reckless.

He stared at me in surprise when I yanked my hand back, putting my back to the wall again. Not a good place to be if a fight happened, but from his utterly lost expression, I could tell that he wasn't likely to start a fight. Even the hovering fairy seemed less antagonistic than she had in the open air of the market.

“Um... you're... Malon's friend, right?” he asked hesitantly. “R... Raiha?”

Now it was my turn to be startled. I had seem him jump down from Talon's cart, so I probably shouldn't have been so surprised, but I was. I wasn't used to being talked about, and I had come to like the anonymity, even as I occasionally craved attention.

“...I... yes?”

He smiled so suddenly that I didn't know at _all_ how to react. Relieved and happy and pleased, despite what had almost happened? It made no sense to me.

“I'm Link! And this is Navi. Malon said that you'd be able to help us!”

I blinked again, then reached up and pulled the muslin strip off my eyes. It was itching, and I wanted a clearer look at this kid.

“You want _my_ help?” I asked, taking note of the way the fairy suddenly dove under Link's hat, as though I had frightened her. “Why?”

“Cause... cause I need to meet a princess in a castle, but.... I don't know where, or how,” he confessed. “Mr. Talon got me here, but said he couldn't take a kid up to the castle. But Malon said that you knew the princess, and could help me get in!”

“...Malon has a big mouth,” I muttered, crossing my arms a little sulkily. “That's _supposed_ to be secret.”

The boy—Link—smiled sheepishly. After a moment, I sighed, and crossed my legs, leaning back against the cool stone. On the one hand, go to the castle. See Zelda, see Impa, maybe even see Sheik. On the other hand, possibly _get_ seen by either Ganondorf or one of his guards.

“....fine. But only because that stone of yours is something she ought to see.”

He nodded, jumping to his feet, then stopped when I shook my head.

“It's too light right now. We'll get caught and tossed by the guards; they've been on high alert since Ganondorf arrived here... We should wait for twilight. Or dawn, if you can get up early and not make a fuss about it.”

He nodded after a minute, and I got to my feet as well.

“C'mon. You can stay at my place until it's time.”

I wasn't in any rush to go back out into the crowds right now anyways. No friendly faces were to be found, and I was still feeling not entirely myself. So I led the way out of the temple, and around the corner towards the back of it, to the small path that led to my small house. From the outside, the house looked just as simple as any other house, and maybe a little bit ramshackle. I kept it in as good a repair as I could, but getting up onto the roof to fix shingles and leaks was beyond my abilities to handle; heights never have been my friend.

“You live here?” he asked.

“Yeah. Mom left me here.”

There was quizzical silence at my back, and I glanced over my shoulder to catch the puzzled look. I had no idea what confused him, and didn't want to really guess either, so I just showed him inside, and watched as he explored what little there was to explore. Eventually he ended up on a stool, kicking his feet uncertainly.

“It's noon now,” I said, squinting briefly out my window at the position of the sun. “We've got six hours to wait until it'll be dark enough that we can sneak in without trouble, or fifteen if we're gonna try and smuggle ourselves in with the dawn. Do you care which way?”

“Um... well, can we sneak in the dark and then get into the palace then?”

I shook my head.

“Palace guard gets doubled at night, so lots of sneaky ways in are actually better watched. Nobody thinks about that during the day because they don't think anyone will get through in broad daylight,” I snorted a little. “Grown ups are kinda stupid like that sometimes. But I've been sneaking into the palace for a year now, so as long as you don't mess me up, I can probably get us in without trouble.”

And with any luck, Impa would be able to get us _out_ without any trouble. She always escorted me back to the Market any time I snuck in, so it was a fair assumption.

Link nodded in understanding, though he looked worried too.

“You can go look around the market if you want,” I offered. “Though you should probably either leave that here, or put it inside your shirt so someone else doesn't succeed at what I attempted to do.”

He hesitated, then shook his head after a minute.

“That... that was a lot of people,” he said a little sheepishly. “Lots more than I've ever seen in one place.”

“Yeah, the market is pretty busy,” I nodded. “Everything closes at six, though. At night, the streets are home to some dogs that like roaming around, and some nasty people who we're gonna avoid. Shouldn't be too hard, those guys are pretty predictable.”

And they stuck to the back alleys, which most people knew to avoid.

“Where're you from, anyways?” I asked after a minute. “I've never seen anyone dressed like you before, and I've been in this town for two years now.”

“Oh! I'm from the Kokiri forest!” he beamed.

“...Kokiri are real?” I asked doubtfully.

It was his turn to give me a dumbfounded look. I just shrugged

“I'm a Gerudo, stuck in a city of Hylians,” I pointed out. “Until I ended up here, I lived in the desert, and there's never been a need for me to go outside the city walls.”

“So you've never been beyond this place?”

I shrugged, a little stung by what felt like criticism.

“There's people here that I can...”

I stopped. Thought for a moment about what I was going to say, then shrugged again. No point in telling this strange boy that I lived my life by stealing from other people. Scandalized would probably be putting it mildly, and I just wasn't in the mood to defend my way of life.

“I go visit Malon sometimes, but the ranch is too far away to visit often,” I said instead. “I prefer being here in town where I can get what I need quickly, with minimal effort. The shooting gallery keeps my archery skills from getting too sloppy, and sometimes I work with Zelda's guardian to learn how to defend myself.”

And if I secretly harbored the desire to one day return to my people, to rejoin the community of Gerudo that I missed with everything in me, well, I had learned how to keep that particular desire to myself. But I got the feeling that Link might understand, if only just a little.

We killed time talking, and eventually packing up a few things that we'd need to weather a night outside the palace walls. Blankets would keep us from getting too chilled, and it hadn't much looked like rain, so I decided against taking a waterproof canvas. I fed him too, before we went anywhere; I knew what it was like to have a moment of stealth ruined by the growling of an empty belly. I was holding out the hope that we would be able to beg food in the morning from Zelda.

As night started to fall, I led the way down the path to the palace, hair tucked neatly under my hat to avoid notice. I was going to have to cut it again soon, but for the moment, it was fine, and it was just one more thing I wasn't in the mood to think about, not really.

Navigating the path in the dark wasn't too much different from navigating it in the daylight; the guards had no lamps, and even with the moonlight, it was easy to find shadows to stick to that enabled us to get around their watch positions. Too easy, really, for men and women who were supposed to defend the lane in case of attack.

But then, their enemy was inside the palace already, and they just didn't know it.

We made it past the last of the guards just as the midnight hour was passing, and I showed him one of my waiting places, near the palace kitchens. Warm, even with the fires banked, we tucked up against the wall, beyond a screen of bushes, and fell asleep.

Dawn, especially dawn near the kitchens, actually comes about two hours earlier than the rest of the palace. Or even the actual dawn. The fires get stoked, the breakfast breads get baked, and the general clatter and bustle of the palace begins and ends with that one area.

In retrospect, not really the best place for a nap. At least, not as far as Link was concerned. Me, I could—and do—sleep like a log. Noise in the compound traveled well, and so did noise in town; after a while, one learns to sleep through anything that _doesn't_ sound instantly threatening. In this case, I had slept through worse, so when Link woke up, I didn't. He was nice enough to let me sleep until the sun came up at that, though with the daylight burning off the faint fog that had gathered, it was probably not the smartest move.

Still. It was kind.

We left our things concealed behind the bushes, and I led a careful, extremely precise path through the areas of the palace that I knew would be less heavily guarded at this time of the day, heading for Zedla's flower courtyard. I doubted _she_ would be there, not right away, but she always ended up there at some point during the day, and it was a safe place to wait. No one was allowed in without the Princess's express permission, after all.

It was a peaceful place, raised land with green grass and flowers, ringed by water. Two small bridges led to doors that led to either the princess's personal hallway (The right hand door), or an outer hall that I had never wandered without Impa (the left hand door), while a small staircase and platform led to a window that looked directly into the hall before the throne.

Zelda was standing before the window, her eyes fixed on something that was happening inside. I pushed Link forward, and flopped down onto the grass with a weary sigh, not really wanting to get involved in any way if I could avoid it.

“You shouldn't be here,” Sheik said, simply appearing next to me with a frown evident on his face. “It's not safe, Raiha.”

“I know, I know. But he,” and I motioned to Link, “would only have tripped over his own two feet trying to _get_ in, and... he's got something she needs to see.”

His frown—or what I could see of it; even then he liked a high collar and hiding one eye behind his hair—deepened. I just shrugged a little helplessly.

“I can't explain it any better, I just _know_ , Sheik. Something big is happening. Something _bad_. I wanna see my little brother someday, damnit, so I gotta stay alive. Tell me what's happening, anyways?”

“The Gerudo king is, in theory, here to negotiate a peaceful coexistence,” Sheik said after a minute. “Princess Zelda believes he is here to try and steal the Triforce from the Sacred Realm.”

I shivered; the Triforce legend wasn't one I knew _well,_ but it was hard _not_ to notice the power that filtered quietly out from the Temple of Time. Especially considering how I was in close proximity to it. To me, the power was odd, but also comforting; it was a passive guard that meant I would be safe, since few people of any race tread the ground of the temple. Sometimes it even seemed like the temple itself was forgotten...

“He would need three spiritual stones, and the treasure that she keeps on her at all times,” Sheik said quietly, glancing sidelong at me. “And I think you can sense the truth of the matter yourself.”

I shivered again, nodding. Something about Ganondorf said that he would go through anyone who got in his way, would do _anything_ to get what he wanted. It had been in his bearing as he'd ridden through town three days ago, and in the icy cold stare that had been leveled in my direction.

“We'll have to stop him somehow,” Sheik said after a minute.

“Not it,” I said immediately.

Sheik made a faintly exasperated sound, and I glared at him.

“This isn't _my_ problem,” I said, keeping my voice low, even as it was fierce. “Zelda is the one with the power and political clout-”

“This king doesn't believe her,” Sheik interrupted. “He thinks she's just heard to many stories about how much trouble Gerudo cause, and Ganondorf has been nothing but courteous and polite in front of His Majesty.”

A cold feeling formed at the pit of my spine.

“You said you wanted to live and someday meet your brother,” Sheik said quietly. “Well, if Ganondorf wins, that probably won't happen.”

After a minute, I sighed, and hung my head.

“All right. But what can _I_ do?”

Sheik glanced over his shoulder, and I followed his gaze. Zelda and Link were still talking, and she seemed pleased by whatever he was saying, or explaining. He was doing his explanations with great enthusiasm at that. I suppose I can't blame him; Zelda is cute, no matter her age.

“He looked mostly untrained,” Sheik said after a minute. “You should go with him and watch his back.”

“Are you _nuts?_ ” I demanded. “There's no way-”

“You can't hide forever!” Sheik retorted. “And you're a good archer, _and_ a good fighter! If.... unpolished. Rai, look, I can tell he got here by more luck than skill, and Hyrule is _big_. If we want to have a chance of surviving, we have to stack the deck.”

He was right. He was right, and I knew it. I knew it, and I _hated_ it, because I could see the sense of it. Link was armed with a sword and a shield, and a slingshot. I had a bow and arrow, fledgling hand-to-hand skills, and if worst came to worst, knew a few Sheikah skills that could get us out of a tight spot as needed. And two people working towards the same goal had a better chance of survival than one person alone, no matter _how_ the fabric of destiny was warping around them.

Sheik put a hand on my shoulder.

“It'll get you out of here too,” he said quietly. “Keep you safe.”

I made a face at him; he didn't treat me like I was any different when we were training, but sometimes he picked moments to get weird on me. I know _now_ that he was trying to protect me because he was my friend, because he cared about what would happen to me, but as a child, all I thought of was that he was being _weird_ again.

So I pushed his hand off and got reluctantly to my feet.

“Fine, fine, I'll go with him. We're gonna need stuff though, y'know. Maps, and food at the least.”

Sheik's visible eye crinkled in amusement as he too stood, nodding.

“Impa is getting those things. After Princess Zelda told her about the prophetic dream, she decided that gathering some supplies for that one,” and he gestured lightly towards Link, who was now looking through the window, “would probably be a good idea. Kokiri don't usually travel beyond their forests, so he's probably got less of an idea about where everything is than you.”

“You really think he's one of them?” I asked, intrigued.

“He's got a fairy,” was the bland reply. “Hylians don't have fairy companions.”

I gave him a light push, huffing in mock-annoyance.

“Brat.”

He only smiled again, though it changed quickly to concern as Link jolted back from the window, the fairy once more diving under his hat as he tripped over his own feet and ended up flat on his back.

“I have to go,” the Sheikah boy said quietly. “Be careful.”

Before I could say I would—or I would try, all things considered—he vanished. I envied him the skill for a moment, then went over to Link and Zelda.

“He saw you?” she was asking as I climbed the stairs. “...well, he doesn't know what we're planning.”

She glanced up, and smiled in a worried manner as I sat on the top step with them.

“I am afraid,” she confessed as Link sat up. “I fear that he wishes to destroy Hyrule...”

“Well, we won't let him,” I said firmly.

Link nodded in agreement. Her smile softened a little, and she nodded slightly as well.

“Right. We'll have to get to it first. The Spiritual Stone of Fire is the next one you should try and get, held by the Gorons of Death Mountain. If you take this letter with you,” and she pulled an embossed envelope out of the pocket of her skirt, handing it to Link, “you should be able to travel up the mountain to see them.”

Her eyes flicked up, over my shoulder, and I knew that Impa had arrived with the way she relaxed minutely.

“Impa will escort you both out safely,” she said, clasping first Link's hand, then mine. “Please be careful, and return soon.”

Link nodded, and we stood. As he started down the stairs, I hung back for a moment.

“Zel. You be careful too,” I said quietly. “I don't wanna come back from this big adventure and have no friends to welcome me home, kay?”

She smiled at me, then hugged me briefly, surprising me. I hugged back a little awkwardly, feeling my heart sink in my chest. Something told me that this was going to be the last time I saw her, for a very long time.

“Raiha,” she said softly, once she'd released me. “You are a good, true friend. I will see you again. I promise.”

I almost called her a liar. I came very close; it would have been easier to walk away if I had, I think. But I kept the word to myself, and nodded firmly, then turned to catch up to Link and Impa, who were waiting patiently for me.

Whether I wanted to be or not, I was committed to the days to come.

 


	4. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality, reactions, and dealing with Dodongo. Also, making new friends.

Three

 

Impa escorted us out of the Palace, and all the way down to the drawbridge that was raised every night to prevent things on the plains from wandering into the town. She didn't say much, but there was a faint air of pride around her, and I caught her glancing at me more than once.

Me, I was nervous as hell. I had never been, never _wanted_ to be, outside of the town. It wasn't home the way the Gerudo compound was home, but I had spent two years there, living careful and cautious, and I didn't want to have that all ruined.

Stepping across that drawbridge, I knew that nothing would ever be the same. Link seemed to feel it as well, because he glanced at me, and offered me an uncertain smile. I gave a nervous one of my own in reply.

“I have prepared as much as I could in the small amount of time I was given,” Impa said, handing him a pack, and then me. “There are maps, money, dried foods, and bedrolls for you both. You both know the song of the Royal Family,” Link glanced at me in surprise; I shrugged a little nodding. Zelda herself had taught me the song, and it was very soothing, all things considered. I hummed it to myself on particularly bad days, “and are as equipped as we can make you. Raiha. I apologize for entering your home without permission, but it was necessary to secure your belongings.”

And she handed me my weapons. I wanted to be annoyed, but mostly I was relieved I wouldn't have to turn around to fetch the items I knew best. I would soon outgrow the bow, but the throwing daggers would always be relevant, and I think if I'd gone back to get them myself, I would have ended up not leaving...

I pulled them on, fastening the quiver to my hip and the daggers so that I could get at them quickly, then pulled on my pack.

“Go west,” Impa said, turning us in that direction, and pointing. “At the base of Death Mountain, you will find the village of Kakariko. It is my village, the place where I was born and raised. There are people there, though they are not Sheikah, that will help you if you but ask them.”

She was quiet for a minute, then patted both of us on the head. I squeaked in surprise, and glanced up at her.

“You are very brave children,” she said. “We await your return eagerly.”

I knew what was coming next, and covered my eyes as she flung the Deku nut to the earth. Link squawked in protest at the bright flash, rubbing furiously at his eyes.

“She's... gone!” Navi chimed in surprise. “How?”

“It's a Sheikah thing,” I said quietly, shifting my shoulders to adjust the pack more securely. “They do that a lot.”

“O-Oh...”

She bobbed a little in somewhat subdued understanding, and Link looked first to her, then to me. I looked back, then shrugged a little.

“Don't look at me, I'm just here cause two people are better than one,” I told him. “I don't know anything out here...”

To my surprise, he grinned.

“That's okay! I'm just glad to have someone else to talk to. It was lonely getting here... Mr. Talon kind of saved my butt when I passed out from hunger. I got really really lucky.”

I couldn't help but smile a little as we started walking westward.

“Yeah, he's a nice guy. Really lazy though. He can fall asleep anywhere, and Malon gets really annoyed at him cause of it. He pick you up off the side of the road?”

Link's expression turned sheepish, and I couldn't help laughing.

“Too bad he's not doing a Kakariko run this week,” I mused, lacing my hands together behind my head. “Otherwise I'd say we could go to the ranch, and then hitch a ride with him! It's a lot safer to ride with adults...”

Now Link grimaced.

“I'd believe it,” he grumbled a little. “My first night out here, there was weird things that climbed out of the ground and attacked me! I had to climb a tree to get away from them...”

I shuddered a little. Climbing a tree was not my idea of a good time. After a moment I reached over my shoulder into the pack, and found the folded maps that Impa had packed, opening the one labeled 'Hylian Plains' so I could get a better idea of where we were going.

It was a pretty detailed map, with a compass rose and distance marker that helped me work out the fact that it would take us three days at the least—probably longer because we were both pretty short—to make it to Kakariko village, at the base of Death Mountain.

The news wasn't particularly cheering, but Link was amazingly optimistic, and insisted that we could handle anything that was thrown at us. I was.... much _less_ optimistic, but he was trying so hard to be cheerful that I let it pass.

In truth, it took us four and a half, and it was not a pleasant trip. Creatures popped out of the ground at night, driven away only by fire and sword, and the rising sun. Staying on the road mitigated them to an extent, but nighttime was fraught with danger, and sleeping in shifts.

During the days, people in carriages, carts, and on horseback passed us easily, some yelling at us for being in the way. No one stopped to offer us a ride, and a few even threw things when they noticed the color of my skin. Hylians don't attain the ruddy bronze of Gerudo, let alone my more coppery shade, without many hours spent in sunlight, and even then, their tan is only a bare imitation.

“Don't you ever get mad about that?” Link asked on the second day.

I shrugged.

“There's no point,” I told him. “My people have a bad reputation, and jerks like them buy into it because it gives them an excuse to look down on us.”

“...is that why you hide your hair, and why you were covering your eyes in town?”

I nodded.

“Hylians aren't all bad, but the majority of them don't really look beyond their borders or try to understand that it's not _easy_ for my people. We don't have all... this,” and I gestured at the swath of land we were passing by, fields filled with crops, and people working hard to care for them. “We have sand and stone, and if we're _lucky_ the sandstorms don't completely fill in the watering holes we've managed to dig.”

“Wow...”

I just shrugged again.

“I'm used to it. I get annoyed, sure, but I'm just a kid. No way there's anything I can do to change their minds when the other adults of my race have to live up to that reputation to survive. Besides... I have to too.”

“But...” Link's expression was baffled. “Aren't you the princess's friend?”

“Yeah, but I'm kind of a secret friend. It could go one of two ways, and I'm not brave enough to want to know what would happen if they reacted any other way than thinking Zelda was taking pity on me,” I said dryly. “S'why I sneak into the palace, instead of just walking up. Well, that and cause it's fun to sneak past those guys who think they're the eagle-eyed masters of the world.”

And I snickered a little.

“Some of em can't see their nose in front of their face.”

He grinned a little, nodding. Given how easily I had gotten him past the guards, his agreement was gratifying.

Reaching Kakariko in the middle of the fifth day had both of us relieved. We were dirty, tired, and approaching very hungry, as we'd eaten most of the provided food by that point. Crossing the bridge over the river, and then climbing up the many stairs to reach the village was the last challenges we were willing to entertain for that day.

There was no inn, but somehow Impa had gotten word ahead of us, and a _very_ polite guard—as in, he took no notice of my skintone or yellow eyes—escorted us to her house where we got baths, clean clothes, more food, and the chance to sleep for as long as we needed, which was pretty much the rest of that day and the entire night. The next morning there was more food, and a message from Impa that said Ganondorf was settled into the palace as firmly as a stone, and if we could, we should hurry.

Link managed to acquire one of the Hylian shields, somehow stuffing it into his pack—magic is wonderful, let me tell you. That spell was entirely too useful in the days to come—before we went to the gate guard and showed him the letter Zelda had given us.

“...'Link and Raiha are under my orders to save Hyrule'?” The guard looked from the letter to us, then back to the letter before he burst out laughing. “What sort of funny game has our princess come up with this time?”  
I was tempted to kick him in the shin. Link's expression said he was thinking the same thing, but the guard only grinned at us as he passed the letter back.

“Fine, fine, you can go up the mountain,” he said, chortling a little. “Far be it from me to disobey the princess!”

He turned and unlocked the gate, pulling it open so that we could go through.

“By the way, if you're _actually_ going to head up the dangerous part of the mountain, you ought to get a real shield, not that wooden thing,” he said, pointing at Link's Deku shield. “It _is_ an active volcano. That bitty shield would get blasted to bit, or burned up from some of the rocks the mountain spews out. If you hit up the Bazaar in Castle Town, tell em Jericho sent you, it should get you a discount.”

I grimaced at the idea. Four and a half days back to a town that was simmering with unease thanks to Ganondorf and his people? Not my idea of a fun trip. Also an unnecessary delay, since Link had gotten the shield already.

“Well, it's up to you, little heroes,” and he snickered again. “Go on and save Hyrule for the princess!”

I ended up stomping past him as he started laughing again, wishing I dared kick him in the shins like I really wanted to, with Link trailing along behind. The mountain trail wasn't that steep or narrow, so it took me a while to calm down. Link just followed behind, eventually catching up once we reached a brief plateau of sorts. A giant boulder blocked what looked to be the entrance to a cavern, and cast enough shade that it was good place to sit and relax for a couple minutes.

“He didn't believe her,” Link said after a minute, looking back down the path with a frown.

“Well, no. She's a kid,” I shrugged a little, annoyed. “Adults don't really take the time to listen to kids, even when we're right about things.” After a moment I sighed, adding, “At least he let us through. He could have thought we were faking the letter and arrested us.”

Not that he would have succeeded had he tried, but it had been a viable option. Link frowned a little.

“But he told us to get a better shield...”

I just shrugged again, and had a drink of water from the skin Impa had supplied me with.

“Adults are _weird_.”

That made him grin a little, nodding. Even Navi giggled a little as I glanced up the path that would take us upwards to the Goron City. I was not looking forward to walking the rest of the way up the path, but there was no helping it.

“Let's get going. Maybe we can make it all the way up there before it gets dark!”

It was, maybe, an overly optimistic hope, but walking the path in daylight would be difficult enough. Walking at night wasn't something I wanted to attempt.

I hugged the inside of the path as we wound up the side of the mountain, a wise choice to my mind when we reached the halfway point and a boulder—really a Goron wrapped around a bomb flower—came hurtling down the path at us. I yelped, flattening myself up against the stone as Link squawked in surprise and jumped left, just barely managing to stay on the path.

Less than three feet beyond us, the boulder seemed to blow up, coming to a halt as Link scrambled back in my direction. We both stared wide-eyed at the now halted boulder, trying to work out what had just happened. After exchanging uncertain looks, I just made a face and continued up, Link following far closer behind me.

As we entered the cave that contained the Goron city, we met our first Goron. What we thought was a boulder _moved_ , making us both jump to the side and ready our weapons. The Goron's smiling face became puzzled at he looked from Link to me and back.

“You're visitors, goro?” he asked. “It might not be the best time for visitors, goro. Big Brother Darunia is waiting for the messenger from the Royal Family. He closed his door, goro, and even took our tribe's treasure from where it was on display.”

“Is... did something bad happen?” I asked.

“Someone blocked the entrance to the Dodongo's Cavern,” the Goron said, looking a bit upset. “We Gorons live on a diet of succulent rocks, and the Dodongo's Cavern has the very best... With the Cavern closed, Big Brother is worried that we'll all end up starving, goro.”

“Can't you just... eat other ricks?” Link asked, confused.

“They... disagree with our systems,” the Goron admitted sheepishly. “Only Dodongo's Cavern rocks are good food for us, goro.”

“So... if we were the Royal family's messengers, how would we go about getting to him?” I asked.

The Goron immediately perked up.

“Big Brother Darunia's rooms are on the bottom floor,” he said cheerfully. “He said he would wait for the Royal messengers there, and if they knew the right song, they could come in! Oh, but it's really dark in there, goro, so be careful! Falling would hurt someone as soft as you!”

We thanked the Goron and walked the rest of the way into the city. It was built in tiers, that grew smaller the farther one went down. And it was dark, as we'd been warned; with only a little ambient light filtering in from the entrance casting light down into the city itself. With Navi's light to help guide our path, we found more Gorons—we tripped over a couple, really—and managed to make it to the bottom without more than a few bruises.

There was a shop on one side, a sealed door at the far end, and a large pot with three Goron faces in the middle. There were also some braziers that were stacked with wood, but cold. Clearly they hadn't been lit for some time, and I grimaced a little, feeling sympathy for the Gorons. Starving _and_ left in the dark just seemed unfair. It made me wish I knew a fire spell, but that was not the sort of magic Impa taught.

When we reached the sealed door, we frowned, then looked at one another.

“If they know the right song,” I said after a minute. “There's really only one song connected to the Royal family that someone would know to listen for.”

“The lullaby?” Link asked.

I nodded after a minute.

“It's worth a shot, if nothing else.”

He nodded too, and dug around in his pouch for a moment, coming up with a well-crafted ocarina. I couldn't help but be amused; that just seemed to poetically perfect, and a little ridiculous all at once.

He wasn't a bad musician either, and I could easily follow along with the notes of the lullaby, though I only hummed quietly. My voice wouldn't carry through stone the way the ocarina did, so exerting myself seemed like a waste of time. Slowly, slowly, the stone door grated upwards, firelight and warmth spilling out from beyond it. We entered cautiously, traversing a small hallway that led to Darunia's chambers.

The boss Goron in question was taller than the other Gorons, with what looked like a mane of hair surrounding his face. He had looked cautiously hopeful when we first poked our heads through the door, but the moment he saw us, a dark scowl began to form.

“I hear the song of the Royal family, and think it is their messenger, when it is just a pair of children?” he demanded. “Have I fallen so far in the eyes of my Sworn Brother, the King, as to be treated this way?! Go away, before I _really_ lose my temper!”

Link stared up at him, wide eyed and plainly frightened. Me? I was irritated, to say the least. We'd come all this way, done all this walking and fighting, and put up with _entirely_ too much crap to just get turned away so arbitrarily.

“What's your issue?” I demanded, standing my ground as Durnia's glare took on an new level of ire. “You didn't even give us time to say _hi_ and you're tossing us out on our asses?!”

“What good can a pair of _children_ do?” He shot back, one large fist hitting the ground hard enough to crack it. “There's a rock shortage, creatures had infested the cavern even _before_ that, making it difficult to get the food, and on top of that, our Special Crops aren't doing so well! But these are _Goron_ problems, and we don't need the help of outsiders! Especially not one that had _Gerudo_ blood.”

Stung, I started to move forward, opening my mouth to say... something, I don't even remember what, but Link grabbed me by the wrist, and pulled me away before I could do something stupid. He lit a Deku stick from the torch, and managed to drag me around the room while he lit the other ones, then made me sit on the stairs as pools of firelight filled the bottom floor of the cavern and filtered up.

“What'd ya do _that_ for?!” I demanded, scowling at Link.

“Cause you were gonna make it worse,” he pointed out, sitting next to me. “He's got a right to be upset about things, y'know?”

“Yeah, but that comment about Gerudo bl-”

I stopped. Thought for a minute. Then groaned.

“Fine, all right, we can blame Ganondorf for this one too, I bet,” I grumbled, leaning back against the stairs. “But his bad attitude doesn't help us get the Stone we need.”

“Big Brother kicked you out, huh, goro?”

We both jumped, and turned to see a Goron looked down at us from the level above. He smiled and waved.

“Bring some of that light up here, and I can tell you how to get on his good side, goro!”

Link looked at me, then at the steadily burning Deku stick. After a moment, he shrugged and we both got up, bringing the light with us as we went up the steps.

After lighting the two braziers that were on either side of the passageway the Goron stood before, he sighed in delight, then nodded down the tunnel.

“Big Brother likes the music that comes from the forest,” he said. “It has a bright and cheerful beat to it, and he can't help dancing whenever he hears it. So if you learn that song, you should play it for him, goro, and he should be more willing to listen!”

Link grinned, nodding, and ran down the tunnel with his lit Deku stick. I trailed behind, uncertainly; first the plains, then this mountain, and now a forest? I was certainly getting _out_ more, but I was definitely not sure I liked this out.

Link lit one of the bomb flowers—the 'special crop' Darunia had mentioned—that set off four of them, destroying the boulders that blocked the way between us and the forest, then dropped the stick as it was finally fully eaten away at by the fire. Instead, he grabbed my hand excitedly, and towed me along through the tunnel until we came out in the forest.

I stared. Turned in a circle. Stared some more.

Never had I been in a place so _green_. True, there were parks and gardens in Castle Town, but those things were tamed, and also small. Even the brace of trees near the Temple of Time were somehow neatly maintained and groomed, their harvest plucked every fall, though by whom, and to where it went, I had never known.

Link grinned at me when I turned to finally look at him.

“Pretty cool, huh? This is the Lost Woods, but I can show you the Kokiri forest too!”

“....Lost Woods?”

“Oh, it's not as bad as it sounds,” he said reassuringly. “If we get turned around here, we'll just end up back home, and it'll be okay. Just stick with me!”

And he held out his hand. I took it without hesitation, having no desire to get lost in the expanse of green, and he led the way through the forest, following the sounds of an upbeat and cheerful song that I started making out myself as we went farther in. Part of my mind tracked the turnings he took; they weren't random in the slightest, he knew _exactly_ where he was going, and wasn't at all worried about being lost. I could only hope that he _wasn't_ lost, and I clung to his hand to remind myself that I wasn't going to be if I stayed close.

We ended up in a large clearing of earth and stone after making our way through a maze and climbing a long flight of worn stairs. In the middle was a raised stone platform that held both a Triforce symbol, and a strange marking within, at the far end was a tree, a set of broken stairs, and a girl with a fairy sitting on a tree stump. As we approached, she stopped playing, looking up in delight.

She was cute, and she was plainly a fan of green. (Granted, all Kokiri wore green to blend into the forest, a fact I learned much later on.) Her clothes, her boots, even her _hair_ was green. Her eyes though, were a deep, sapphire blue. They were lit with laughter, though once she glanced past Link and saw me, they flickered in confusion.

“Saria, this is my friend Raiha,” he said with a grin. “She's helping me do what the Great Deku Tree said I should!”

“Uh... hi?” I said giving her an uncertain smile.

She smiled back warmly, and her fairy danced cheerfully around my head.

“I've been waiting for you guys,” she said, putting her ocarina in her lap. “Though mostly you, Link. I was worried you wouldn't come back to visit.”

“Aww, I told you I would!”

“What... is this place?” I asked hesitantly.

“This is the Sacred Forest Meadow,” Saria replied, beating Link to the punch. “It's a secret place that only a few people know about. I feel...”

She hesitated, glanced at Link, then at me.

“I feel that this place will be important to us someday.”

I could feel it too, now that she'd brought it to me attention. A subtle sense of looming, of waiting patience, that suggested we'd come here again, when we least expected it. Link just smiled a little; plainly he was used to his friends saying strange things.

“I like to come here and play my ocarina so I can talk with the spirits in the forest,” she continued after a minute. “Link knows the tune, or he _should_ ,” and she giggled a little at his embarrassed expression, “but would you like to learn it?”

“Ah...” I blinked, then nodded a little. “Sure. I like music.”

She played. Link followed along after a minute. I listened, and found a way to blend my voice among the notes of the song. It didn't take long before the three of us were playing, singing, and dancing around the clearing.

It felt... good. I hadn't done much musically since my mother had left me in the market, and this carefree song was uplifting, banishing my worry and unease, even if that freedom was only temporary.

By the time we were all tired, it wasn't hard to think that I had a new friend in Saria.

“Don't forget the song, okay? Not only will it let you talk to the fores spirits here, if you play it somewhere else, I'll hear it. I don't know if I can help you, but if you need it, I'll try!”

Link grinned at her, and gave her a quick hug before we left. I almost did too, but ended up just waving instead; as much as I wanted close contact with people, I didn't want things to get awkward. She waved back, giving me a bright smile, and I couldn't help but grin a bit myself as we trotted down the stairs.

We took the shortcut in the forest back to the Goron City, and hurried back to Darunia's room. Before he could give us another angry lecture, Link played the song, and the music filled the air in a manner that was nothing more than pure magic. Darunia's eyes widened. Slowly, his toes began tapping. His hands began swinging.

I took a prudent step backwards as the Goron leader began dancing in place, a large smile replacing the grumpy look. Considering how widely he was swinging his arms, it was a good choice. He danced for a good five minutes, and by the end of it, I couldn't help but have a smile on my own face as well; it was _nice_ to make people happy.

“I feel much better now,” Darunia said, once he'd stopped dancing. “I apologize for my previous bad manners and temperament; it has been very stressful recently. Was there something you wanted to ask me about?”

“Well... it's about the Spiritual stone of Fire,” I began cautiously.

The frown immediately returned, but it was not angry. It was, if anything thoughtful.

“That is our race's sacred treasure, also called the Goron's Ruby,” he said, his voice turning stern. “While I appreciate the help in brightening my mood, I'm not just going to _give_ you the stone for that.”

“But we really need it,” Link protested. “Princess Zelda-”

“How about this,” Darunia interrupted. “If you can get into Dodogo's Cavern and clear out the monsters inside, I'll give you the stone. My people need to eat, and if you can do that for me, I will give you anything you want. Even the Spiritual Stone.”

Link looked at me. I shrugged.

“Deal.”

For a moment, Darunia grinned. Then he held out a hand, unfolding one huge fist to reveal a pair of golden bracelets.

“You might need these. You don't look strong enough to heft bomb flowers without them,” he said.

Mine didn't want to stay on at first; my hands were more slender than Link's, so it kept trying to slide off, over my wrist. Eventually I switched it to the arm with the archery bracer, and that made it stay put.

We went back out to see if there was something we could do about the giant boulder, splitting up to do so. I went down to stare at the boulder up close, looking for some sort of weakness while Link looked at it from above to see if maybe there was a way to simply break it open. I don't really know what I expected from being in front of it, really. After a few minutes of fruitless studying, I wondered if a Goron could maybe eat through the rock, even if it was inferior in flavor.

Then I laughed a little at myself for wondering how rocks tasted. They wouldn't taste at all good to me; I was Gerudo, not Goron.

“Raiha! Head's up!”

I looked up—Link was a dizzying height above me, and I wanted to look away very quickly—and jumped back as he threw something that hissed and fizzed towards the rock. Recognizing the bomb flower, I scrambled down the path and took cover as it exploded. Rock chunks sailed everywhere; Link had managed to get it right where he wanted on the first try, the lucky sot. I heard him cheering even as my ears rang from the explosion, and carefully crept out from behind my shelter to see the opening to a large cave.

Link met me there ten minutes later, and into the darkness we went. And make no mistake, it was _very_ dark. Navi once again came out to be our light as I wished rather vainly for a lamp of some kind.

The deeper in we went, the hotter it got, until we finally came out in a cavern the glowed a sullen, angry sort of red. The dim light and massive heat reflected upwards from cracks in the floor, and suggested very bad things would happen if we missed a step and slipped into one.

The heat under the mountain is very different from the heat in the desert. Flat arid heat can be moved in. Humid, sticky heat was _much_ less forgiving. As we looked around cautiously, taking care to place our feet where the heat was least evident, I noticed that this large cavern branched out into many more. The tunnels seemed to be Goron sized, and I wondered then if that was because they _ate_ the rock in the shape of the tunnel, or if they blew it up and that was how it turned out.

In the end, it didn't really matter; we had agreed to clear out the creatures in the tunnels, and we set about doing so. We killed dodongo and baby dodongo by the dozens, dodging fire and exploding bodies as we did. I learned very quickly that my throwing knives became _useless_ after being blown up, and I settled instead for shooting them. Arrows, at least, I had plenty of.

It took us.... three days, I think, to clear out the side tunnels on the left. Another three to clear out the tunnels on the right. Fortunately, there was only the one tunnel at the back, leading deeper into the mountain, and to the mother of all the dodongo that had been living in the cavern.

It was not, in the slightest, a fun fight. We had found—rather, Link had found—a bomb bag hidden under some rocks that could hold bombs flower inert. The minute they were pulled out of the bag, exposed to air, the fuse lit and it was only a matter of moments before the bomb would explode. So there was that danger.

There was also the fact that Mama Dodongo was flipping _huge_. Neither Link nor I were short for our age, but this thing made us feel like we were. Her footsteps shook the floor, cracking it more with each stomp, and her breath was certainly hot enough to melt stone. Her first attack had collapsed the cavern entrance.

Staying ahead of her wasn't as easy as it might sound either; while she walked slow and hard, she also _rolled_ like a damn Goron rolled, and getting knocked into a wall—thankfully one _not_ melting—was how I broke my arm _and_ my bow.

Link beat her in the end, by feeding the bombs to her when she took that huge breath the preceded fire, and managing to find a chink in her armor that allowed him to hit a vital point. Mama Dodongo howled in pain, curling into one more ball as she banged into the walls before ending up over the cracked and broken part of the floor, which gave way at last beneath her weight, dumping her into a pool of lava.

As much pain as I was in, that almost made me throw up. It was one _hell_ of a way to die. Judging by Link's expression, he felt the same, or at least similar.

“Now what do we do?” I asked. “She blocked the exit, and if we don't get _out_...”

Link grimaced a little, nodding as he carefully helped me to stand up. My left arm was broken, and thanks to the remaining adrenaline from the fight, I didn't actually _feel_ it, but I knew when said adrenaline wore off, it was going to hurt like hell. In truth, I was more annoyed about losing my bow; there wasn't really much chance I could get _that_ replaced.

Navi fluttered around our heads momentarily, then lightly landed on Link's shoulder.

“I thiiiink I can get you out,” she offered. “You just want to get back out to the front of the cave, right? I can manage that.”

“You sure, Navi?” Link asked worriedly.

The small fairy huffed.

“Didn't I get you out of the Great Deku Tree?” she demanded. “I can get you back outside easy-peasy!”

Link hesitated, then looked at me. I blinked, shrugged, and muttered a few curses as the movement jostled my arm.

“She's your partner, not mine, fairy boy,” I said blandly. “But if she says she can get us out? I'm all for it. This _hurts_ , and I want a bath and a bed, and food.”

Navi gave a chiming giggle, and blue light surrounded us, taking us away from the heat and oppressive darkness out into midday sunshine.

 

 


	5. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Gorons, trouble with heights, and on to Zora's Domain to acquire the Sapphire.

Four

 

In the time it had taken us to clear the dodongo, Gorons had gathered at the entrance to the opened cavern, waiting only for word that they were clear before rushing in to have their fill of the, apparently tasty, rocks. As Link and I appeared in a wash of blue light, a rumbling cheer burst from one hundred throats, and if not for Darunia's quick grab, we might have been flattened by his hungry people as they stampeded in.

His smile, when we both looked up, was warm and pleased.

“Well done,” he said, giving Link what was probably _meant_ to be a gentle pat on the head. It knocked the blond boy onto his ass. I got lucky; he saw my injured arm and didn't give me the same thumpy treatment. “Thanks to the pair of you, we can once more eat all the rocks from the cavern until our stomachs burst!”

“You're welcome?” I offered when it was clear that Link was too dizzy from the well-meant hit to say anything.

“It will make for an incredible story,” Darunia said, though his words were followed up by a frown. “I still can't believe the dodongo appeared in such great numbers so suddenly. And that large rock at the entrance... I believe it must've been done by that Gerudo male, Ganondorf. He visited not too long before such things happened, and demanded that I hand him the spiritual stone, or else bad things would happen to my people. It is why I was so suspicious of you.”

And he looked at me, apologetically. I just shrugged.

“S'okay. I'm used to it. He's an ass.”

The Goron leader chuckled, very _very_ carefully patting my head.

“You two risked your lives for us. It will never be forgotten. In honor of that courage, you should both become my Sworn Siblings!”

“Sworn...”

“Siblings?”

Link and I exchanged a look. Darunia laughed.

“No, there's no big ceremony. Just take this, as a symbol of our eternal friendship!”

He held out one hand, and a red glow began to build up in his palm. It was warmer, softer than the sullen glow of the cavern, and quickly grew to a brief, blinding incandescence that just as quickly subsided, becoming a red stone surrounded by gold, in what looked to be the shape of fire.

It practically hummed with magic, but it was warm, and welcoming. I reached out with my good hand to touch it, and froze as fire flooded through my system, the crackling snap of a campfire filling my ears briefly, only to be overwhelmed by the sound of the lava that was the blood of the earth deep below my feet.

When I managed to take a step back, my broken arm had been healed. Somewhat unnerved, I turned and passed the stone to Link, who didn't seem to feel what I felt, only putting the stone away after looking at it curiously for a moment. Darunia's smile had widened, and he pointed up the mountain.

“My Siblings, you should travel to the peak of Death Mountain. A Great Fairy resides there, and she will surely make you stronger!” Darunia turned towards the cavern entrance, and raised his voice. “Hey everyone! Let's see off our new Siblings!”

If the stampede in was bad, the exodus was worse. Link and I shared a look, then bolted up the mountain path, leaving Darunia laughing behind us. And since we were already heading up, we agreed to bite the bullet and go see what this Great Fairy could do.

In retrospect, this was not the wisest of choices. At least, not for me. Getting through the rock spitting channel wasn't too hard; we held the Hylian shield over our heads and ran like we were in danger of being lit on fire or flattened. Which, to be fair, wasn't wrong. Climbing up the cliff face wasn't too bad; Link loaned me his slingshot to knock the skullwaltula from the walls, which made me feel a bit better about my busted bow. Even the Great Fairy wasn't too bad if... _very_ strange, let's go with that. Fairy aesthetics are very _very_ strange. You learn not to question them after a while. Watching her give Link a special sword techniques was actually kind of interesting.

No, it was going _down_ that proved to be difficult. And by difficult I mean that I froze up completely when I looked over the edge, and Link had to go get one of our newly acquired Goron siblings to get me down.

...I shouldn't gloss over it like that. But it's embarrassing.

Let me clarify. I don't like heights. I have _never_ liked heights. While I have come to learn tricks and ways to both power through, and manage the fear, as a child, I had no such abilities. So when I say I froze, I mean I froze very still, and once Link had pulled me back from the edge there was nothing he, nor I could do to get me to go near it again. I simply _could not_ make myself approach, and believe me, I did try.

Link, to his credit, didn't tease me. If anything, he looked like he felt vaguely sorry for me. Given that once I had stepped back from the ledge I had almost collapsed on the solid earth, and was shaking so hard even holding water would have been difficult, I lacked the will to be upset about it.

Fortunately for us both, the Gorons were only a little puzzled by my reticence, and easily got me down from the mountain top. I don't think I've ever been so happy to have made friends as I was at that particular moment. I wasn't even embarrassed, just profoundly grateful that the two who had come to help had been willing to take a break in eating to _give_ the help.

We returned to Kakariko that evening, dirty, tired, and hungry, and in my case, horribly shaken up from just _how_ high we had been. While we weren't given the 'hero' treatment—other than the guard recognizing us and asking if we'd done as the princess asked, while snickering intermittently—we were once more allowed to stay at Impa's old house, where we got baths, washed and dried our clothes, and got yet more food.

In truth, it was in Kakariko we lingered; there was shelter, beds, and food. We could also hear gossip, and there were plenty of places to explore. We didn't know where to go, to be perfectly honest, and instead of traipsing all about Hyrule, getting lost, eating all our food, and getting attacked by stall children or other people, we elected to stay in a place that was marginally friendly, and hope we might get a hint.

We didn't so much get a hint as we did a boot. A week into our stay, Sheik showed up at Impa's house, radiating irritation. He had timed it—I know he did, because he didn't want Link to know him just yet—for a moment when Link was out chasing Anju's chickens to put back in their pen while I struggled to read the books on the shelf in hopes of locating some _clue_ that might lead us to the third, final, Spiritual Stone when he walked in.

I was so surprised to see him that I almost dropped my book.

“What're you doing here?” I asked.

“What are _you_ doing here?” he replied, hands on his hips. “You can't stay here forever, you know!”

I glared. I was so _not_ in the mood for him to get pissy with me.

“I'm _trying_ to find information on the last Spiritual Stone, you ass,” I informed him rather snippily. “It's not like they're labeled on the maps! We weren't even told the _names_ of the stone either, before you get fussy, so I don't know _where_ to start looking. Given how big Hyrule is, and how _small_ we are, running off without getting _any_ information at all is kinda stupid!”

I could tell her was struggling not to say something stupid himself. He and Zelda were really good about controlling their body language, but we were _all_ children. It wasn't hard to guess.

“ _And_ I don't know how to get messages to you or Impa saying we _needed_ the guidance,” I finished, smacking the book closed. “So don't whine at me because we're stuck trying to find a lead.”

He scowled for a few more minutes, then sighed. Argument won, in my case. After a minute he went over to my pack and pulled out a map, the one labeled Zora's River, then brought it to the table.

“All right. I apologize. Things at the palace are tense, and the princess is becoming concerned. It never occurred to us that we sent you off without that necessary information.”

“Is everyone okay?” I asked, a little anxiously.

“Everything is... fine. For the moment. I am not certain how long this will last, unfortunately. The king continues to turn a blind eye to Ganondorf's arrogance, though trade negotiations are proceeding with all the methodical slowness of a turtle,” he grumbled a little. “Impa fears he will attack soon, and the only chance we have...”

“Is if we get to the Triforce first,” I nodded a little.

He pointed at the map, tracing a path up the river.

“It's been said that the Zora have a treasure, an ancient stone that is passed from mother to daughter in an effort to keep it safe and protected,” he said. “The Spiritual Stone in question, by the way, is of Water.”

I blinked.

“Forest, Fire and Water?”

Sheik nodded.

“....that's just weird.”

His visible eye crinkled in slight amusement. It was gratifying to see. While Link and I had certainly become friends, it had been hard to not be around the other people who were just as important to me. I missed having a community of people around me that were familiar and friendly faces, and making do with individuals just left me feeling more lonely than before some days.

“Okay. So we should go up the river to see Zora's....”

“What?”  
“....I don't know how to swim.”

Sheik stared at me long enough for me to get annoyed.

“I grew up in the _desert_ , Sheik,” I snapped. “Not really any place to swim out there!”

“Well, it shouldn't be too much of a problem,” he said after a minute. “There's a path here, and King Zora does meet with 'landwalkers' from time to time, so he's bound to have a shallow-water area for you to walk in. You'll be all right.”

“...If I drown, I'm blaming you,” I muttered.

That just made him snicker a little, and get up from his chair. He hesitated a moment, then patted my head very carefully.

“We'll see you when you get back,” he said, his voice subdued. “Be careful.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. You don't do anything stupid either, got it?”

It got me one last smile before he left, and I returned to studying the map. Link came back about ten minutes later, looking flushed from running around, but also excited.

“Rai, Rai! I think I know where the last stone is!”

“Really? How'd you find out?”

“I went to visit Saria real quick,” he said as he flopped into a chair. “She used to talk to the Great Deku Tree all the time before he... before he died. And he told her that the Zora had an old stone that had a strange power. And... hey, you have a map out?”

I shrugged.

“I got help too. I was told pretty much the same thing, so this is probably our best bet, right?”

I was a terrible liar, so I didn't bother with it. Fortunately, Link didn't ask too many questions, simply accepting that someone had finally talked to me about some rumor they'd heard.

“...do you know how to swim?” I asked.

“Uh huh,” he nodded emphatically. “It's not hard. I can show you, if you want!”

“Probably, but not now. We should get ready to go, y'know? So we can leave in the morning.”

I folded up the map and put it away, and we set about getting together everything we would need to reach Zora's River, and Zora's Domain.

There was no direct path to the entrance to the river, which pretty much meant more sleepless nights and somewhat laggy days as we tried to compensate for having to fight or watch the fire in turns by night. I still had arrows, but I missed me bow something fierce, and while Link's slingshot helped, it was definitely not a bow.

It only took two days to reach the river fortunately, and once we started up the path to Zora's Domain, there were no Stall Children to be found. It took a further three days to _reach_ the huge waterfall that blocked entry into said domain... and yes, I did learn how to swim on the way up. Mostly by falling in the water and flailing around like an idiot until I figured out how to keep myself upright. Link found these sessions hilarious, so naturally, I dragged him in with me once I had mastered the skill enough to do that.

We were still children, despite the danger that loomed over our heads.

Getting in was a bit of a challenge, and once again took Zelda's Lullaby being played by Link. When the falls slackened enough to reveal more thoroughly the opening in the cliff face, we both looked up, wondering what might've stopped—or at least slowed—the water. After a moment though, we jumped the gap, and went in.

We both stopped short and just stared.

Zora's domain is infamously open-aired in the world I live in now, but this wasn't always the case. The caverns where filled with the rush of a smaller waterfall at one of the room, light coming from a mix of carefully shielded fires and crystals that glowed blue. The stone was slick with the spray from the waterfall, but there was a path that led up and beyond it to what appeared to be a throne room, and a very _large_ Zora.

King Zora was... rotund. At best. His arms and legs were both very thin, while his body was very wide. He had a gold-trimmed red cloak wrapped around him, and red gem set in gold perched a little haphazardly on top of his head. He also appeared to be sitting between us and another area, no doubt the top of the falls, but all entreaties and questions about the Spiritual Stone of Water were ignored. Instead he moaned that his daughter, Princess Ruto, had gone missing, and something about their guardian god, Lord Jabu-Jabu, being ill.

We still spent ten minutes trying to get him to talk to us, but in the end we gave up, and went to talk to the other Zora.

Well, _I_ went to talk to the other Zora; Link played a diving game that got him a pair of Zora Scales, which helped with holding breath for longer periods of time. He was beaming as he handed me one, and I didn't have the heart to get snippy. Besides, I enjoyed swimming and the ability to stay underwater longer was definitely one that I wasn't going to begrudge.

“They said all sorts of trash flows into Lake Hylia, and sometimes they go there to swim too. There's a shortcut at the bottom of this lake,” and I pointed to the opening down below the surface of the water. “Maybe if we go to Lake Hylia, we'll find the princess and get her back so her dad can tell us what we need to know!”

As ideas go, even I knew it was kind of weak. But we were already chasing cold leads, so one more didn't seem like it would do any harm. And while the Zora were a bit on the arrogant side, they didn't seem to dislike me personally. At the time, that was exactly what I needed.

Lake Hylia, when we emerged from the magical underwater tunnel that connected the domains, was just experiencing sunset. (It wasn't until much later that I realized how useful this was; Zora's Domain and Lake Hylia are on completely opposite ends of the country.) There were fish in the lake, and the sun glinted both off the surface of the water and the items down near the sandy bottom. Mostly rupees, glimmering softly in the golden light of the slowly descending sun, but there was the odd other item. A bottle, a couple of fishing poles... something that looked like a sunken net too, that had a strange rippling around it that I had learned was the Zora camouflage effect.

The lake was, in a word, large. Out in the middle was a small island with a dead tree at the top, a strange pedestal like what I had seen in both the Temple of Time and the Sacred Forest Meadow, and an odd looking epitaph-stone that made no sense to me at the time. To the left was another shelf of land that I would later learn housed a fishing pond, and behind us was the shore, and some gardens that the strange scientist who lived on the lakeshore occasionally tended to.

It was the most profoundly peaceful place I had ever visited.

“Let's go diving,” Link suggested, looking down into the water with a little grin. “Maybe if we help the Zora with this stuff, we'll have more luck!”

It was just an excuse for him to test out how long he could hold his breath, but I wasn't inclined to argue. There is a wonderful sense of peace under the water, even as sound carried better through it. Being underwater... if ever I wanted to be any other race, being a Zora probably would be my first choice.

Anyways.

We mostly brought up handfuls of rupees in low denominations before we found the bottle that held a somewhat waterlogged note.

 

_Help me. I am waiting for you inside Lord Jabu-Jabu's belly._

_-Ruto-_

_P.S. Don't tell my father!_

 

We looked at one another.

“Ten rupees says that King Chubs is between us and him,” I said, sighing. “Juuuust great. How did she even _write_ this?”

The question gave us both a moment of pause before Link shrugged and I pushed the question aside as unimportant.

“May as well go back and show him the note,” Link said, yawning a little. “Maybe get some sleep before we have to get eaten by a fish.”

“Uuuuugh. That's so gross,” I grimaced. “I don't even wanna think about that, thanks.”

Navi giggled at both of us then dove back under Link's hat as we made for the tunnel again, and popped out in Zora's Domain.

We were not veteran swimmers. Link swam for fun, and I was still very new at this. So what ended up happening was that we found our things, and a fairly dry corner so we could eat, and both of us passed right on out before we could have more than a few bites. The Zora apparently felt sorry for us, because when we woke up, we had been covered by our bedrolls to avoid getting too chilled.

We ate, we packed up, and we left the things there, since neither of us wanted to really test whether the bags and beds would repel fish slime. When Link presented the bottle to King Zora, we were as ready as we could be for what was undoubtedly the oddest situation we'd faced to date.

“Why... this letter is from our darling princess!” the large Zora exclaimed. “Mmm... she's _inside_ Lord Jabu-Jabu? Nonsense! Our guardian god would never eat one of my people, especially not the precious Princess! But...”

He hesitated then, peering a little at both of us. Giving us the fish-eye, as it were. Or more likely giving me the fish-eye, since I was the one who shared similar coloring to Ganondorf.

“Ever since that stranger, Ganondorf, arrived here, he _has_ been a bit green around the gills...”

Ganondorf again. The name itself sent chills up and down my spine, and I had the sense that this name, this _person_ was going to shadow me no matter how long I lived. Much worse than the Gerudo reputation ever could.

“Very well, since you brought this to my attention, you will go and rescue my darling daughter!” he declared imperiously after a moment. “You can pass through here to reach Lord Jabu-Jabu's alter! And you can have this back as well.”

And he returned the empty bottle to us. As he moved to the side, a process that took several minutes due to his size, I took the bottle downstairs to catch us a fish. Zora, when asked correctly, were surprisingly open about how the fountain, and everything connected to it, worked. A fish offering for the guardian god was not just suggested, it was all but required. The Zora I'd spoken to about it said that doing so would bring us good luck.

It took me a couple of tries to catch the fish, but when I did, I went back up in time to watch the last few moments of King Zora sliding over. Link's shoulders were shaking, and he was red-faced from holding in his laughter, soI didn't bother with saying anything; just grabbed him by the arm and towed him outside, where we both immediately leaned up against the protective wooden bars of the fence and just _lost_ it.

We were laughing helplessly for a good five minutes at least, not even really able to speak. All it would take was one of us mimicking the noise of King Zora attempting to move over, and the laughter would just begin again.

It was the first time I'd ever laughed myself to tears. It's a good memory.

Eventually we managed to regain some semblance of calm—by which I mean we retreated from full on helpless laughter down to somewhat suppressed giggles—and approached the large fish in the middle of a small lake.

Jabu-Jabu was a _very_ large fish. Or a small whale. He was gray, and decorated with a gold and blue headdress that hung down between his bulging blue eyes and to either side of his face. He sat comfortably in the lake that was the source of the water for a good portion of Hyrule, though his breathing seemed rather... labored. Not that I had any real way of judging at the time.

“So, we give him the fish, and he maybe gives us back Princess Ruto?” Link asked, looking up at Jabu-Jabu in nervous awe.

“Who know? But it's worth a shot.”

Link nodded, popped the cork on the bottle, and shook the fish out before the whale. There was a few moments where nothing seemed to happen, then Jabu-Jabu opened his mouth and inhaled. The fish vanished into his maw, and then we both followed.

Let me tell you, there is nothing quite as horrible smelling as the inside of a fish. Fish remains, bubbles of gas, and only Nayru knew what else. The smell was an affront to all senses, and we were both pretty green ourselves for a while.

The inside of the whale was pretty straightforward, fortunately, and Ruto wasn't hard to find. We hadn't even made it halfway down his throat when she came rushing in our direction, and hid behind Link. The thing chasing her was a large octopus-like creature, that Navi identified as being called a Big Octo.

“Keep it away from me!” Ruto yelped.

Link, being Link, stepped up to the plate effectively. Or he tried. He managed to get the large octopus to chase him instead, which led to Ruto choosing to use me as her hiding spot instead. I shot at the thing a few times with the slingshot, but it didn't seem to be doing much good; the octopus was faster than me at dodging, so I tended to miss a lot. Every time I did, I could feel the floor vibrating as Jabu-Jabu groaned.

“Stop that!” Ruto said impreiously, grabbing at my wrist as Link came around again after being rather harshly swatted by the octopus. “You're hurting Lord Jabu-Jabu!”

“Well, unless you have a _better_ idea?! I'm trying to help me friend, here!”

She hesitated, the arrogance draining from her as quickly as it had appeared. As I turned, she rummaged around behind her, then thrust as boomerang into my hands.

“Use this to stun that... that _thing!_ ” she said. “And then the boy can kill it!”

The boomerang was not an entirely new tool to me. We used them sometimes in the desert, though they were more a toy than a tool. I weighed it carefully in my hand, waited a moment for Link to make another turn—thank Nayru Jabu-Jabu had a long _and_ wide throat—then flicked my wrist hard and hit Big Octo square in the face. It halted, stunned, and as the boomerang whistled back to me, Link took the opportunity to stab it with his sword.

It squalled, thrashed around a bit, and finally expired when Link stabbed it again. The silence that fell was one of relief.

“All right,” I sighed, wiping a mix of slime and sweat from my forehead. “Let's get the hell out of here, yeah?”

Link nodded eagerly, but Ruto crossed her arms, a stubborn set to her face.

“I'm not going anywhere,” she proclaimed. “There's still something I need here, and I won't leave until I get it back!”

I groaned.

“Look, princess, your dad's worried about you, your people are worried about you, and being in here _really_ can't be good for you,” I said.

“....well, I don't care about that!” she said firmly. “I'm not leaving without my mother's stone! And no landwalker is going to reach it first!”

“Uuuuuugh. Fine. Just fine,” I grumbled. “Can't be easy for once, noooo. First a dodongo infested cave, now the belly of a giant fish with a spoiled brat. Perfect. What's next, more cliffs?!”

Ruto just huffed at me. Out of patience, I snarled back. Link wisely chose to stay out of it, though he was watching, and I heard a tiny chiming that I suspected was Navi giggling again. I turned to start walking away, Link falling in beside me, when Ruto cleared her throat imperiously.

I didn't even look back.

She did so again, though the sound was farther away this time. Link started to turn, but I grabbed his arm and shook my head a little.

“She's worse than Zelda in terms of being spoiled,” I muttered. “If we let her, she'll try and do everything she can to remind us that she's the princess and we're not even common folk of her race.”

Zelda didn't do such things on purpose, but I had no patience for it when it happened. Fortunately, the Hylian princess was quick to recognize when it happened, and apologized. Ruto, on the other hand, was the darling child of her people, used to getting her own way. It took us a long while to become friends...

Ah, but that's later.

We weren't entirely out of sight when she gave in and ran after us, catching up fairly quickly. She had the air of a thwarted child, which actually helped lighten my mood plenty. Link glanced sidelong at me, then over his shoulder at her, but decided to not say anything, allowing it to just be 'a girl thing,' as he later called it.

Annoyed or not, Ruto stuck close to us, occasionally grabbing one or the other of us by the backs of our tunics when something startled her. Sometimes, those grabs were also because we had stopped paying attention—it was a very _large_ throat—and prevented us from stepping on strange electrified jellyfish that littered the way.

If I thought his throat was big, his stomach, when we finally made it there, was _enormous._ It put me in mind of the Dodongo's Cavern, except much more menacing. The provided light came entirely from electrified jellies, and the strange creature that hung in the middle of Jabu-Jabu's belly as though it owned the place. Ruto spotted something in the flickering, crackling light, and yelped aloud, pointing.

“There! That's my mother's stone! You must get it for me!”

It was half-hidden by the creature's bulk, and attempts at approaching were thwarted by Barinade itself, launching electric jellyfish like they were boomerangs. I tossed the boomerang to Link, who proceeded to prove that his aim _had_ improved by slicing through the trio of tentacles that held the thing to the upper wall of Jabu-Jabu's gut while I tried to get in close enough to snatch at the blue crystal I could see.

I hindsight, a mistake. At the moment, a _painful_ mistake. Freed from stationary confinement, the damn thing started moving in spiral patterns around the interior of Jabu-Jabu's large belly, kicking up sprays of stomach acid—which burned like nothing else I had experienced before—and using the electrical jellies that had protected it as weapons.

Link's wooden shield came in handy more than a few times, though the acid was slowly wearing it away while he fought to get in close enough to kill Barinade. I just worked to annoy and distract it, since that was the only thing I could offer without the boomerang. And no matter how the damn thing moved, it managed to keep hold of the stone that Ruto wanted so badly.

It felt like forever—it was probably a little over an hour—before Link managed to get in the decisive blow that shorted out Barinade entirely. Also explosively; the thing blew apart in chunks of green slime that splattered all three of us.

“...and here I was thinking this couldn't get much worse,” I said after several long minutes of silence.

Ruto, to my surprise, tossed me a look that was almost sympathetic as she hurried forward to pick up the gold-wrapped blue stone. Link tried vainly to get the gunk off his sword and gave up as she cradled the stone to her chest.

“I've been going inside Lord Jabu-Jabu's belly for years,” the young Zora princess admitted. “It's a place to hide when... when things come up that I don't quite know how to handle. My father has been making noises recently about a possible engagement. I wanted time alone to think.”

“But... the letter in a bottle kind of defeated the purpose,” Link said, voice trailing up at the end curiously.

“Letter in a bottle?” Now Ruto looked confused. “I didn't write any letter.”

“Well, we found one,” I replied. “We showed it to your father so that he would let us get past...”

The question I had asked earlier came back to prod at me, but now was not the time to wonder. Ruto looked at Link, and then at me, uncertainly.

“I... do owe you,” she said after a moment, regaining some of her regal bearing. “For you not only saved my life, but helped me to retrieve my mother's stone, the Zora's Sapphire. Please, if there is a reward I can offer, name it.”

I eyed the Spiritual Stone of Water, but refrained from saying anything.

“Um...” Link looked at her, then down at the stone as well. “If... If you can give it to us, we kind of need the Spiritual Stone of Water.”

Ruto looked down at the stone in her hands for a long moment.

“My mother told me I was only to give it to the man who would someday be my husband,” she said after a moment. “As an engagement gift. But... you were both pretty cool. And very brave.” Another moment passed, then she nodded. “All right. You can have it. Here.”

And without much fuss or fanfare, she handed Link the Zora's Sapphire. He looked at me with a grin, and I couldn't help grinning back, even covered in muck and slime. We'd done it. That was the third Spiritual Stone, the last one we needed.

We escorted Ruto out of Jabu-Jabu's mouth, cleaned off the worst of the slime—and when we couldn't entirely get it out of our clothes, we gave up and left them behind, trading for clean spares—and ran for the path that would take us out of Zora's Domain.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dodongo's cavern was way easier to turn into an actual cavern than Jabu-Jabu is to turn into an actual FISH, I swear to god.


	6. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confronting Ganondorf and failing.

Five

 

We wanted so badly to be in time to prevent trouble. We wanted so _badly_ to beat Ganondorf to the punch that we didn't even care that we lost sleep. We pushed ourselves to run, regardless of how tired we were, across the plains of Hyrule. We ignored the monsters that popped out of the ground unless we had no other option, and even then, we only fought them enough to get them out of the way before we picked our pace up again.

We were not in time to save anyone.

Two days away, we could see the thick, black smoke that came from the direction of the Market. One day away, the press of evacuation people forced us off the roads, making us go further afield to find clear paths. Some went in the direction of Kakariko. Others headed for Lake Hylia, or Lon-Lon Ranch, and the lands that lay beyond. There were plenty of small hamlets and villages that swelled in part due to this mass exodus, some making themselves ripe targets for later events that would devastate them.

It was midday when we reached the drawbridge that led into the market, but you wouldn't have known it from the way thunderclouds covered the sky, turning it gray, then black, as we closed in. The bridge was down, and we could hear the sounds of fighting—metal on metal, screams of the injured and the dying, defiantly wild laughter—as we approached. Could see the signs of it on the pale stone of the outer walls, damaged by smoke and stones.

We were only slightly equipped for a fight. I still held Link's slingshot, and he had given me back the boomerang as well, since ranged weaponry was definitely more my preference than his. I had a few of the Deku sticks as well, that could be used as a staff if necessary. He had his sword and shield, and his fierce, unyielding determination.

As we started to head across the bridge, a white horse came tearing out of the smoke, forcing us both to scramble aside to avoid being trampled. On the horse's back were two riders; Impa, and ahead of her in the saddle, Zelda.

It... the moment happened too quickly. I caught snatches of it, like still photos of specific moments.

Zelda spotting us, blue eyes wide in fear and desperation.

The horse racing past as Impa urged it on.

Zelda pushing one of Impa's arms back.

The light of the lit torches flaring off something that glowed silvery-blue as Zelda threw with all her might.

I watched as the ocarina—for what else could it be?—arced with surprising grace into the moat around the castle, and in the moment wondered when Zelda had developed the ability to throw so far. It was followed up by wondering where Sheik was hiding; he hadn't been on the horse, and he wasn't at their heels...

Link helped me to stand up, and we both stared south, in the direction they had gone, holding tightly to each others' hands. We had not been in time.

Hearing the sound of another horse snorting behind us, and, more importantly, _feeling_ the waves of cold and dark that pulsed from the rider, I froze in place. It wasn't the same petrification as suffering from heights; it broke when he spoke, and I was able to turn and confirm what I felt. Link turned with me, on hand still wrapped tightly in mine.

“They cannot hide for long,” Ganondorf said lowly, yellow eyes narrowing as he glared down the road. Then his gaze turned to the two of us. Link was given a cursory once over and then dismissed, but on me, his gaze lingered.

My legs were shaking. I couldn't help it. There was something entirely _wrong_ about Ganondorf, something that defied description, and dried my mouth. His eyes were cold and hard, arrogant and overbearing.

I wanted to be somewhere, _anywhere_ , else.

“Girl,” and I flinched, “tell me which way the horse and riders went.”

Mutely I shook my head. Terrified or not, I wasn't going to sell out my friend and my teacher. His eyes narrowed, and I almost wanted to drop to my knees; this was my _king_ I was defying. I was no longer part of the Gerudo tribe, no, but I was Gerudo enough to recognize when I was likely to die.

Link stepped in front of me, releasing my hand so that he could grab his sword and shield. Ganondorf's attention was now on him, and I found I could breathe again, found that with someone there _with_ me, committed to the same thing I was, I could be brave myself.

Ganondorf's laugh at Link's defiance was as cold as his eyes.

“You think you can protect them from me?” He sneered. “You have _guts_ , but not a lot of sense, children. And _you_ girl, are defying your king's order.”

I found my voice then. It was shaky, I was scared out of my mind—I wanted to _live—_ but it was mine.

“You're _not_ my king.”

The silence was deadly then. After a moment he lifted a hand that glowed first with shadow, then with light as he built up the power. I didn't think then, I just shoved Link aside as the spell was fired, and caught it.

Literally. For a moment, I held the spell, understanding how to cast it, how to make it, and how to shut it down. I was not, however, trained enough to figure out how to stop it; there's a fine line between understanding and ability, after all. So naturally, the damn thing exploded in my face, flinging me backwards across the ground with a pained cry.

I was lucky then; he hadn't meant the spell to kill, only to stun. A painful punishment, but only that. I didn't think to wonder then if he'd seen me catch the spell; the split seconds I'd held it had been only that.

“Little _fools_ ,” he spat. “You do not understand to whom you speak. I am _Ganondorf_ , and soon, I will rule the _world!_ ”

He nudged the horse, and with a shout, was gone, tearing down the road in the same direction as Impa and Zelda.

Moving hurt. Hells, _breathing_ hurt. I still tried to throw the boomerang, even though hurting a horse was just anathema to me. If I could just _stall_ him, give them a longer lead...

The boomerang fell pitifully short, and didn't even return to me, that was how poorly I'd thrown it. Link went and retrieved it, then came back and gently helped me to sit up.

“...what do we do now?” He asked quietly.

“Zelda...” Speaking hurt too, and took an exhausting amount of effort. “Threw something... moat...”

He glanced at the moat, then at me. After a moment he sat cross-legged next to me, letting me lean on him until I was breathing as normally as I could, given the circumstances. The kindness was touching, even if it was a little reckless; though the fighting hadn't spilled out onto the drawbridge, there was no guarantee that it wouldn't.

So when I felt like I could stand without falling over, I forced myself to my feet, and Link followed as I walked over to the moat, and looked in. After a moment, with the aid of Navi's light, I pointed to the Ocarina of Time, sitting just under the drawbridge's shadow. Link dove in to get it, since I was in no position to do the same, and he needed my help to get him out.

“Why did she throw it?” he asked, once he was out of the water.

“...I don't know,” I replied softly. “But I bet we can find out.”  
He looked at me, then proffered the ocarina.

I didn't take it from him, I only touched it. Light flared when I did, and abruptly the two of us were before a very familiar alter stone, in halls I knew too well. The Temple of Time.

Zelda stood before that alter, her hands holding the same ocarina that was now cradled between my hand and Link's, and she turned as if to face us.

“Link. Raiha,” she began, her voice soft and hesitant. Afraid, if I was any judge. “When you hold this ocarina in hands, I won't be around any longer. I wanted to wait for you, but... As it is, I am sorely pushing what luck I have to leave even this message.

“I am hoping that you now have the three spiritual stones. Bring them here, to the Temple of Time. There is a song you must play, the Song of Time. It will allow you to do what I cannot.”

She played a series of haunting notes that I felt an instant connection with; the Temple had always echoed with the memory of this song, chanted by voices so long ago that any words there might've been had been lost.

I felt the ocarina slip from my grasp, but didn't begrudge Link's possession of the artifact; why should I, when I wouldn't have been able to play it in the first place? I could, and did, sing along with the notes of the ocarina, embedding the song into my mind in a way to never lose it.

“Please... _please_ my friends. Protect the Triforce. Protect Hyrule.”

When the vision released us, we both sat down abruptly, nursing brief headaches. The sounds of battle had lessened by the time the aching stopped, moving away from the drawbridge. I didn't know if this was a good or bad thing, but in the end, it didn't matter. What we wanted, what we needed and somehow had the blessing to discover, was a clear path to the Temple of Time.

We ran it, like the scared children we were. Dodging bodies, and pockets of fighting, puddles of blood and dismembered limbs, we moved as quickly as we could through the war-torn streets. The temple was more than safety at this moment; it was the only shot at fighting back we two children had.

The temple, unlike the town, bore no smoke or scuff marks. It was almost obscenely clean, and I wondered why no one had wanted to take refuge within the strong stone walls. Surely this, if any place, needed the most defense.

But no one was there.

Heedless of the temple's aura of calmness and purity, was ran across the room to the alter, an alter I had never paid much attention to, since it had never been necessary for me to know what it was. It was black marble, set atop white, with three hollows and an inscription.

 

_Ye who ones three Spiritual Stones, stand here with the Ocarina of Time and play the Song of Time._

 

Funny how I can still remember that.

We weren't sure if we were supposed to place the stones first or play the song. After a hasty debate, we decided to play the song, and see what would happen.

What did happen was almost amazing enough to obliterate the lingering fear.

The song echoed and reechoed among the vaulted ceiling overhead, taking on a life of its own, it seemed. The three stones, only one of which I hadn't touched—wouldn't touch until much later—simply appeared from the pouch Link carried them in, floating over our heads much like a halo. Then they settled into the depressions, which shifted until the stones were held firmly in place by the marble, unlikely to ever go anywhere.

Above the large door that had been sealed for as long as I could recall, the Triforce symbol went from marble-black to gold, flaring with light that eased the lingering aches, and brought about a sense of warmth. The door parted, and for a moment I thought I heard something like a fanfare of triumph.

Calmer now, we didn't run up the stairs to either side of the alter; we walked, entering the shadowy hallway beyond far more reverently than we had the temple itself. We were still afraid...

No.

 _I_ was still afraid enough to cling to Link's hand. Whether he was afraid or not, I couldn't tell, but he didn't protest, and I was glad of it. I knew now that something was going to happen, but whether it would be us winning or a monumental loss, I couldn't say. Only that it would be big.

We paused as we came to a small, octogonally-shaped room. A window high over our heads shed a surprising amount of sunlight, considering how much smoke filled the air, and how dark the storm clouds had been only minutes ago. It highlighted the raised platform at the room's center, and the sword that rose from it.

“Is that....” Navi flitted over to the sword, then around it, examining it from all angles. “It must be... it's the legendary blade... the Master Sword!”

Link looked from the sword to me as Navi flew back, her light bright with excitement. I offered a half shrug.

“It looks big,” I said doubtfully. “You might have to just take it and then wait a few years t... oh...”

Kokiri didn't age. Link wouldn't ever 'grow into it' the way I had just assumed he would. But I had no desire to touch the sword myself, and when Link stepped forward, I let go of his hand. Whatever was in here wasn't meant for me, and I knew it.

Part of it was the simple fact that I barely knew how to use a sword. It would have been part of my training as a Gerudo, to use such things, but I had no such training, and was not inclined to trust to random chance.

Link walked up the steps, studied the sword for a moment, then climbed onto the pedestal it rested within, and put both hands on the hilt. With a short burst of effort, he pulled the blade, and was surrounded by a pillar of blue light that flared outwards. I couldn't see what happened within, but I trusted him to come out in one piece.

Mist flooded the room, flooded the entire temple, and I felt dread curl around my spine as I heard a cold, cruel laugh.

“As I suspected, you two brats held the keys to entering the Sacred Realm. You've brought me precisely where I want to be...” Again he laughed. “It seems I owe you, girl, so perhaps I won't kill you _this_ time.”

I saw the gates for myself then, shining and golden through the mist. My fear spurred me forward, turning to anger; we had come this far, gone through _entirely_ too many difficulties. I would be damned if I let him win, not after all of this.

Instead of responding, I bolted for the gates.

Now, legends say that the first person to enter the Sacred Realm sets the tone for the realm. A pure-hearted person will make a paradise, while an evil-minded one will create a world full of darkness. This is not _entirely_ wrong, but it is inexact. The Realm takes on the characteristics of the people who walk there, regardless of who's foot touches, and it's based on the amount of power that person has, and how long they walk among the fields.

I was first. Paradise did indeed bloom in my wake as I ran down the only path I could see. Flowers, trees, and creatures all seemed to leap into being. I didn't have the breath to care about them at the moment, only to wish that I had the time to stop and boobytrap the road to stymie Ganondorf's approach.

And approach he did, making no secret about it. Thunder cracked with his footsteps, and he deliberately left imprints on the path in the event that future people would come across them.

He's always been something of an ass like that.

Whether but luck of the draw, or sheer stubborn determination, I made it to the Temple of Light first, shoving the heavy stone door open with the sort of strength only found by the desperate, tumbling headlong into the room.

If I hadn't been in such a panicked hurry, the Temple of Light would have produced a profound sense of awe. It was light in every sense of the word, every hue imaginable, and even many that weren't, forming pictures and shapes along white stone floors that rang with musical tones as I darted over them. It was warm, and it was welcoming.

I didn't even notice then that my exhaustion was fading, being replaced by strength, by a sheer stubborn will to avoid letting Ganondorf get what he wanted. I didn't want the Triforce for myself—and the goddesses only know how it would have turned out if I did—I just wanted to make sure _he_ wouldn't get it.

The Triforce was at the far end of the room, hanging low, shedding light and warmth, comfort and strength. It whispered things that I still cannot remember to this day, but I think they were promises. Power, wisdom, courage, everything I needed and didn't have at the time. Everything I could have been and wasn't.

I ignored them, because I didn't want those things. In the moment, all I wanted, was to make sure the Triforce remained out of Ganondorf's hands.

I grabbed the Triforce.

Nothing happened.

Well, no, something _happened_ , but I didn't spare the energy to take note of what it was until much later. In that moment I was judged and found acceptable, if eminently young. My right hand prickled, going numb for a moment as the Triforce symbol was seared onto the back of my hand, and I spared a second to swear about that even as I pulled the Triforce from the pedestal and tried to find a corner of the room to hide in.

The Triforce itself shrank until I could hold it comfortably, and I merely shifted to tuck the three triangles up against my chest as I made for the front again.

The temple still glowed with light and color, and it was this which saved me from being noticed immediately by Ganondorf when he came thundering in. He immediately made for the far end of the room, where I noticed in shock that there was another Triforce hanging in midair, at a height where he could have reached for it. I looked down at the one in my arms, then watched in helpless panic as Ganondorf reached for what he thought was the Triforce.

His hand passed right through it.

I stared, looked down at what I carried again, then took that precise moment to bolt out of the temple. Behind me I heard a chiming sound, feeling something pop like a soap bubble, and was treated to a roar of fury.

I ran faster.

I didn't know where to go, mind you. The only thought in my mind was _away._ Anywhere that Ganondorf _wasn't_ was pretty much where I wanted to be. In the end, I made for the gates, hoping that if I reached them, if I passed into Hyrule itself, I could find some way of getting to Zelda and having her do whatever it was she intended to do with the Triforce.

Ganondorf's long legs made short work of my lead. I was not, of course, subtle. Subtle was for someone who had the time, the _space_ to plan such things. I was just running, haphazardly dodging through a realm that looked much less friendly and welcoming then it had moments before. While nothing other than Ganondorf attacked me, it was, to be fair, only a matter of time before I messed up.

If I had known then what I now do.... perhaps things would have ended better. I suppose I'll never know. Even then, however, my fledgling understand of how the three pieces were meant to work in concert was what allowed me to hold the Triforce as I did.

It wasn't a spell that caught me. It was a tree root. I had spared a moment, stupidly, to look over my shoulder and see precisely how close he was. In that moment, I veered, and hooked my foot into a the upcurved root of a tree.

I tumbled, hugging the Triforce to my chest. Something cracked, and Ganondorf's spell sent me farther, stunning me. Still I clung to the symbol of hope. A wish started forming in my mind, but before it could be fully coherent he was _there_ , one large hand gripping the back of my neck and pulling me off the ground.

It felt...

It's hard to describe. I knew in my heart that the only way he was going to get the Triforce away from me was to pry it from my cold, dead fingers, and he didn't seem inclined to argue the point much. His fingers were already squeezing tightly, cutting off my air, but it felt as though there was someone rummaging around in my _mind_ as well. An unwelcome presence, which I fought against with all my strength, but ultimately was forced to give way too. It... whatever it was, forced my arms to open. The Triforce fell from my grip, and into Ganondorf's waiting palm, and I heard an ugly laugh echoing in my head, moments before everything changed.

The sundering was blinding, and it was powerful. It sounded much like a lightning strike, and was about as bright, if marginally safer. I was blown, quite literally, from Ganondorf's hold, launched far and away, out of the Sacred Realm. I remained conscious just long enough to recognize the two triangle-shaped lights that were bearing me away, and then, nothing but darkness.

When I woke—and I was surprised _to_ wake—it was to pale, watery sunshine through a familiar window. The window was not mine, but I had spent just enough time in Impa's house to recognize where I was. Somehow, I had made it to Kakariko village.

If I had thought everything ached before, it was _nothing_ in comparison to how badly my body and mind hurt now.

I had failed.

 _I had failed_.

Ganondorf might not have had all three pieces of the Triforce—at the time I didn't even have a clue about what piece he _did_ have—but the fact that he had _a_ piece, let alone had managed to wrest the Triforce from me, made me want to scream.

I didn't have the strength to scream. I barely had the strength to weep. The tears seeped on on their own, however; I thought I was alone, and I hated that. I didn't want to _be_ alone. I wanted... I wanted Zelda. I wanted Link. I wanted Sheik and Impa. I just wanted someone to tell me that _it could be fixed_. That even though I'd screwed up, everything would be all right.

I found some strength then, to move onto my side, to bury my face in the pillow as the tears gained traction.

I had failed Zelda. I had failed _everyone_.

And there was no one there to tell me anything different.

The memory still stings, even all these years later. If I had known more, if I had questioned Zelda, Sheik and Impa more thoroughly about the nature of the Triforce, things would be different. Events would never have played out the way they did.

Hindsight is cruel. Knowledge after the fact is even crueler.

I was alone for two days. I spent most of those days in bed, lacking the energy to do anything else. I didn't want to eat. I mostly slept. Sometimes I cried. I think, if I had been left to my own devices, I would have allowed myself to die.

When the third day dawned, I had company. I woke with the sunlight, and saw Sheik sitting by my bed, watching me. He had pulled his large collar low, and swept his hair off to the side; the effect made him look much younger, and allowed me an unobstructed view of his face, which was the first gift he gave me that day.

I looked at him, then looked away. I thought I was dreaming, and that was the cruelest thought of all at the moment. When he touched my shoulder, gingerly shifting me into a sitting position, I jolted in surprise more than pain, and allowed it.

He held a glass to my mouth; I drank. And when he asked me what had happened, I told him everything I could remember.

“Part of the Sheikah legend says that when the heart of the person who touches the Triforce is imbalanced, the Triforce will shatter into the three defining pieces, Power, Wisdom, and Courage, leaving only one piece behind. Given that he assaulted the palace, our best guess would be that he now holds the Triforce of Power.”

“....that's not good.”

“No,” he agreed. “However, it also means that if he wishes to acquire the True Force, the wish to govern all, he must find the other two people that received Triforce pieces.”

I looked down at my hands, folded meekly in my lap. After a moment, Sheik put an arm around me, giving me a light hug.

“It's not your fault,” he said quietly. “You couldn't have known.”

I wanted to accept it. I wanted, so very badly to believe him. Even then, however, I knew that ignorance was not an excuse. It had already cost me my tribe, and now it had cost me one hell of a lot more than that.

But I appreciated the attempt.

“Is... is Zelda...?”

“She is fine. She's as safe as can be at the moment. Since Impa is protecting her, she gave me orders to find and make sure that you were safe.”

I blinked.

“Did you bring me here?”

He nodded.

“I got lucky, and found you unconscious in the Temple of Time,” he said quietly. “I was afraid you were dead, or dying, so I went to seek out the old woman who runs the potion shop. She's had her hands full with people fleeing the Market, and, erm... ruining her field research, but she was able to cobble together a potion.”

He nodded slightly to the now-empty glass, and I had to admit, while I still felt _emotionally_ all over the place, physically, I was indeed much improved.

“Has there been any sign of Link?”

Sheik shook his head.

“I'm afraid not. It's possible that it was recognized that he was too young to wield the sword and has been taken away somewhere until he's old enough... But the Master Sword is as old as the kingdom itself, so I'm afraid I don't know as much about it as I'd like.”

“Then... then tell me what you do know,” I said, surprising myself with my own determination. “About the Sword, and the Triforce.”

He looked at me for a long minute, searching my face for something. What, I couldn't be sure, but... something. Whatever he found must've satisfied him, because he began to talk, explaining that which I had never asked about.

I learned that the Master Sword was also known as the Blade of Evil's Bane, which meant that Ganondorf would never have been able to enter the Sacred Realm in truth, if not for our meddling.

I learned that the Triforce balanced the forces of Power, Wisdom and Courage, and that a heart in balance would gain the True Force, an ability to make a wish for the whole of Hyrule. _That_ news brought out a round of cursing so vehement that Sheik went to make some food while I hated myself even more.

I learned more, so much more that day. I learned about the five temples in Hyrule, and the one in the Sacred Realm that would call on five special people to awaken as Sages if Ganondorf continued to threaten Hyrule. I learned that the Sheikah knew many secrets about the Triforce, even more than the Royal Family, and how fiercely they guarded them.

How fiercely I now guard them....

In truth, I wonder at that protectiveness. Sometimes I think the lands would benefit from knowing as much as possible about the Triforce. Other times I think that secrecy is the best course of action, since it means fewer people know how to get in, or cause trouble.

I suppose, even here in these pages, I can't help but subscribe to the secrecy. I'm not Sheikah, their secrets aren't mine to share. Hopefully by the time any of this becomes... well. 'common knowledge'? I don't know. But hopefully by that point I'll be long dead and nothing more than dust and ash, and all of this will be nothing more than ancient history.

I'm rambling. Move on.

 


	7. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad things following like a train, but moments of peace still come regardless.

Six

 

I didn't stay long in Kakariko. I didn't dare. It was too close to the Market, and even with a now sullenly burning anger about what had happened, I didn't want to fall into Ganondorf's clutches. I ended up, of all places, hiding with the Kokiri, mostly courtesy of Saria, who was quite willing to help me out, as a favor to Link.

I won't lie, I also went because I just plain liked Saria. Eternally ten, she was still surprisingly motherly and protective. She defended me against Mido—not that I needed it, the first time that loudmouth tried to intimidate me without her nearby, I just slugged him. He didn't try again after that—and helped me acclimatize some to the forest.

Sheik was always with me, I knew, but the only times I could see him was when we were training together. Sparring. And sometimes he would vanish for weeks on end, only to return and teach me a new set of moves, as well as give me information on what was happening outside the forest.

It wasn't a pretty picture I was painted either. Ganondorf had indeed visited Kakariko with his army not more than a week after I'd left; the town had not been razed, but they, like every other large town with farmland or abundant fishing, now had to give him tribute. And he had apparently gone over the citizenry with a fine toothed comb, looking for Zelda, Impa, or me.

Why he wanted me, Sheik never did say. I suspected it was because I had held the Triforce, but I didn't press because I wanted to remain willfully ignorant on _something_ , at least.

Time seemed to pass at a snail's pace while in the timelessness of the forest, but it did pass. Eventually, as I knew I would, I began to change in ways that the Kokiri never would. I got smacked with a growth spurt a month after I turned thirteen, and was almost always hungry. When I realized I was starting to stand out, even knowing as I did that Ganondorf was not going to risk entering the forest, I decided to leave.

I went into the Lost Woods, taking a path I knew well by now, and lingered in a small clearing with a deep pool for Sheik to join me.

Like me, was was growing. He was, if anything, growing faster, as he was taller than me by a few inches. Granted, he was also a year _older_ than me, but still. It seemed unfair at the time. It's amusing now, as I ended up the tallest one of my friends.

“Where are we going now?”he asked.

“I'm not sure,” I admitted. “I can't stay in the Lost Woods, I'm not a Kokiri, but...”

He was quiet for a few minutes, assessing, I knew, the options I had available to me.

“The Zora would be good allies,” he finally said. “They are adept at water travel, and Ganondorf has not taken the time yet to threaten them. He seems, for the moment, to be concentrating on the Hylians alone.”

I nodded, easily understanding why he might do that. Hylians had, for as long as I'd known, looked down on the Gerudo. Now they had traded places, and it was the Gerudo who ruled, and the Hylians who had to suffer for it. I almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

“You will, of course, have to deal with Princess Ruto.”

I made a face at him, and doze into the water, swimming easily down to the bottom and through the portal that would take me to the entrance of Zora's Domain. I knew he would catch up in his own way.

Zora's Domain was unchanged, as were most of the people. It was comforting, even though I was initially treated with some suspicion. The had not forgotten Ganondorf's visit, nor the fact that their guardian god had not survived what had happened when Link and I had been seeking the Spiritual Stone of Water.

Ruto surprised me by coming to my defense. She was growing up as I was, and here I was able to find some amusement; I was taller than the somewhat spoiled princess, and though she could look down on me metaphorically, physically, she was always looking up.

She was maturing however, into her role as princess, and future queen, even as I was maturing into mine as defender and protector, her spoiled childishness being replaced with a strong nobility. Truthfully, being friends with Ruto probably helped to save my life, and not just because she argued her father around into letting me remain.

The Zora, Gorons, and Gerudo all have one major thing in common; we're all very family oriented. With the Gerudo, admittedly, this is somewhat superficial, as you are only family if you are of Gerudo blood. But with the Gorons and the Zora, race didn't matter. Once Ruto accepted me as a friend, the Zora arrogance melted away, and I was treated with the same care as the princess herself. It was a true and precious gift, one that I've always cherished.

For my fifteenth birthday, I was granted a Zora tunic, a magical garment that allowed me to breathe underwater. Ruto had said the deep blue would compliment my swiftly growing hair—I had thought growing my hair out might help disguise me if I were to inadvertently cross paths with Ganondorf again, and while admittedly a foolish thought, I had come to enjoy having long hair, even as it became something of a trial to care for—and she was, of course, correct.

Staying underwater, speaking as the Zora spoke, was a different sort of freedom. I didn't have to come up for air if I didn't want to, didn't have to set _foot_ on dry land if I didn't absolutely have to—and there were days where I did that were not part of training with Sheik, days that I learned to keep track of and not like. Ruto got a free pass to tease me about them, since she didn't suffer the same fate, but was also female—and didn't have to worry about falling from anything.

I was fifteen and a half when Ganondorf tired of Zora defiance, and place a monster within their temple. Ruto and I were playing a game of underwater tag, where I was usually the one stuck being it thanks to the Zora's camouflage ability when the ice began forming.

It formed quick, a thick layer that plunged downwards from the waterfall, and spread even quicker. It was only through luck and magic that I was able to keep from being frozen to death, and Ruto as well.

As the ice approached from all sides, the Zora princess and I made for the depths, hoping to reach the tunnel to Lake Hylia, but the ice was approaching from that direction too, and after a handful of panicky minutes, I remembered the spell crystal called Din's Fire that Sheik had brought to me the year before.

Technically, underwater it wouldn't work. But I didn't need a protective dome of fire, nor fire at all, not really. I just needed the water to _not freeze_. So with Ruto at my side, I cast the spell, again and again and again. Trying with all my might to go up, to melt the encroaching ice that was between us and safety.

Sheik saved us both that day. He was growing stronger as he grew older, and with my spell melting the ice between us and the exit—something I knew I would not have the strength to actually manage, but I had to try, I _had_ to—and his slim blades plunged down into the ice, cutting a hole big enough that the two of us managed to reach the surface. He tossed his blades aside and pulled us both out onto dry land as the water I had been heating less and less of froze over with a sharp snap, leaving nothing more than pure ice, and no sign of any Zora.

Ruto, once she was on dry land, reclaimed her arm from Sheik and stared at the ice in mute horror. The air was frigid, and we were both soaking wet—the Zora tunic allows on to breathe underwater, but it does nothing to keep a person _dry—_ so it didn't take long for the shivering to begin, at least on my part.

“R-Ruto, I-”

She lifted a hand, cutting me off before I could even try to stammer out an apology. I was convinced that this was somehow, in some way, my fault. Ruto, on the other hand, was stubbornly not.

“You have been careful,” she said, her voice amazingly steady. “You have never gone to the lake during the day, you have, in fact, almost never left the interior domain. Therefore, this _cannot_ be your fault, so don't you _dare_ try apologizing.”

It startled me so much that I just stared at her. She turned then, facing us both, and I winced to see the grief in her eyes.

“We Zora have made things difficult for Ganondorf,” she said firmly. “In every way that we possibly can. This is no doubt a way for him to think that we're all now contained, all of us. To have the ice come so fast means he must have done something to our temple at the bottom of Lake Hylia.”

I knew, then, what her next words would be.

“You must find a new place to hide,” she said quietly. “And I must go to the temple and see if I cannot fix whatever damage he has caused.”

I wanted to argue, wanted to say that I would go with her, fight with her, but Sheik's hand, still on my wrist, tightened slightly. Reluctant though it was, I nodded in acceptance.

“We'll see each other again, Raiha,” she said, a small smile on her face. “And maybe we'll even see him again too...”

I nodded again,briefly wondering when, if ever, we were going to see Link again. Five and a half years was a long time to be away...

Sheik escorted us both out of Zora's Domain, and I hugged Ruto tight before she leapt into the water that was still flowing at the base of the falls and vanished.

That left me, shivering, and Sheik, standing at the entrance to Zora's Domain. I turned to him then, not to tell me where to go, but to hold on as thought my life depended on it.

We were of a height at the time, but I still managed to hide half my face against his shoulder, and my shaking wasn't entirely because I was cold and soaked. The ice closing in had been one of the most final things I had ever seen, and I had not thought to hope for a rescue.

He held onto me just as tight, and murmured quietly in his smooth tenor voice. The words didn't matter, but the reassuring tone helped, and after a handful of minutes I felt a bit calmer. Calm enough to ease my grip, though I didn't step back. Instead, head resting on his shoulder, I considered my options.

There weren't many safe places left for me now. I would stand out in any small village or town, no matter how I attempted to disguise myself. Kakariko was still an option, but it remained a dangerous option that I didn't yet have the courage to take; alone in a city was something I had too much experience with, and I was in no rush to repeat it. Especially since I couldn't exactly _count_ on their loyalty to Impa overriding the common sense that would insist I be handed over as part of the tribute.

Sheik shifted a little, and I registered that he was somewhat uncomfortable, so I let go, and stepped back. It made a part of me hurt, but he had always tried to keep some sort of distance there, a space that neither one of us could cross. I was honestly starting to get tired of it, but hadn't the will—not yet—to do something about it.

“I'll go to the Gorons,” I said lifting my voice to be heard over the rush of the waterfall. “I'll ask Darunia to shelter me for a while.”

It was the last safe haven I could think of, the last place where I might have that sense of belonging for a while. I needed it still; I was in no position to even think of trying to challenge Ganondorf. While my skills were steadily improving, they were nowhere near the level of the King of Evil, and to challenge then would only have led to my death.

Sheik nodded a little.

“He has missed his Sworn Sister,” he told me, his voice reflecting a hint of relief and amusement. “He will be glad to see you.”

“At least someone will...”

He hesitated, then patted my shoulder gently. I sighed a little, wishing for a moment that he would hug me again, then turned to go back into Zora's Domain and fetch my things.

Darunia _was_ happy to see me, as were the rest of his people. He, of course, was the only one who called me Sister, the rest called me Brother, and were quite confused when I tried correcting them. I gave up after a few days, and just got used to being called Brother by everyone.

Unlike the Zora, Gorons are amazingly tactile people. They had to be reminded very often—usually by me, at volume—that I was _not_ a Goron, and they had to be gentle. I could not join in on many of their games, but watching them race around, or throwing each other in wrestling was certainly fun. Even in the dark times, the Gorons could, and did, turn many things into a party. Part of it, I think, was the fact that they were on a mountain, beyond Kakariko. Ganondorf had threatened them plenty, to be sure, but he had not yet followed through with any threat, and the Gorons were very much part of a rebellion that tended to tie up Ganon's troops in as many ways as possible.

I enjoyed that too. While not impossible to kill, Gorons are practically made of the rocks they eat, and it is very very hard to damage them. From time to time, Darunia even let me come up with ideas on how to harry and harass the enemy soldiers, most of whom were actually _not_ Gerudo, but lizalfos and dianlfos, and several reams of undead. Gibdos and Re-dead were a special sort of pain in the ass, but stalfos and stalchildren could be just as bad.

Fire was a wonderful equalizer on a battlefield. So were bombs.

My sixteenth birthday was an affair the likes I had never expected. Not only did Darunia gift me a Goron tunic, but I was given two slim blades of my own that resembled the ones Sheik bore and trained with, at least three dozen new, well balanced and razor-sharp throwing knives (plus a dozen dull ones for throwing practice), and a belt from which to hang them. There was plenty of my favorite foods—most of which kept for _weeks_ , so I could enjoy them as slowly as I wanted—and cheerful music.

It was everything I hadn't known I'd wanted, and continued well into the early hours of the morning. By the time it wound down, I had passed the point of tired, and gone straight into my second wind, being entirely too alert. Since I didn't want to be a bother, however, I moved carefully around the sleeping Gorons—they were akin to a pile of boulders, honestly—and decided I wanted to see the sunrise.

I had been inside the mountain more than outside, still concerned that my presence would cause trouble for the ones housing me, so it had been a while since I had felt the sunshine on my skin. I made sure to sit in a spot that wouldn't have me looking down, and hugged my knees to my chest as I watched the slow lightening of the sky into the colors of dawn.

“They've finished with celebrating?”

I had grown so used to Sheik simply appearing that I no longer was startled by it. Instead, I just nodded, smiling softly. Both the Zora and the Gorons had shown me that it was possible to find good times, even among the bad, and those were the most important gifts I had never even thought to acquire at the time.

Sheik hesitated a moment, then came and sat next to me, far closer than he normally did. Without even really thinking about it, I leaned on him, my head against his. After what felt like a long moment, he relaxed enough to put an arm around my waist, to which I placed my arm around his shoulders, and allowed myself to silently enjoy the tactile contact.

He was invaluable to me, simply because he was the one constant thing I had. Despite everything bad, despite everything _good_ , even, Sheik was the one thing, the one person, that was simply _there_. He was my friend, he was my guardian, he was my trainer... He was someone I could cling to, could take comfort in. The certainty I had then was not a _knowing_ , was nothing like that, but...

I don't know if I was tired. I don't know if I was more awake than I had ever been. But I do know, at that moment, that I cared more for him than for anyone else.

So, as we sat there in silence, watching the sunrise, I leaned down a little—I was now taller than him, much to his consternation—and kissed his cheek.

I knew I'd surprised him with how very still he went. But he didn't pull back, and after a moment I felt the tension go out of him.

“It's not a good idea,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

“I'm supposed to be your bodyguard.”

That made me giggle a little.

“I know.

He sighed a little, and looked up at me then.

“....Impa is going to kill me,” he muttered.

I blinked in surprise, and it was _my_ turn to be frozen in shock when he pulled down his high collar, and leaned up to kiss me.

If there was ever a perfect moment in my life, ever a moment that I will eternally hold close, sear into my mind and never let go if, it is that one. How could it be anything else?

I miss him so much...

We stayed there for most of the day, not really talking. What was there to say? We traded only a few kisses, soft and kind, and mostly just leaned on one another, content in the moment and—at least in my case—basking in the sunlight.

In truth, I fell asleep around noon, and woke up back in Goron City several hours later, a small box, a large book, and a letter next to my pack. In the box was a pair of gold, small hoop earrings, set with very tiny gemstones in blue, green and red. While piercing my ears hadn't precisely been on my list of things to do that day, I ended up getting them done later.

The letter... Ah, the letter...

 

_Raiha._

 

_I meant to tell you when I saw you. I couldn't make myself say it. There was too much else that happened, and... I suppose sometimes even I can be a bit cowardly._

_I'm afraid I will be away for six months, doing some intensive training with Impa. She feels as though things will begin to move and change within the next year, and wishes for me to be ready. As I have kept her informed on how your own training goes, she feels you are ready to branch out into other spells, and has thusly sent you this book in hopes that it will be of some use to you._

_Raiha..._

_Forgive me._

 

_Yours,_

_Sheik_

 

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to be hurt. All I could be was resigned, and for that day all I did was hold close the memory of those soft kisses, and just lightly touch the lines he had written. The idea that he could be a coward was honestly laughable; it had no doubt taken him great courage to bridge that gap between us.

It was three months later that trouble began. The mountain grew angry, the clouds around it taking on a dangerous red glow as the volcano churned and bubbled, spitting much larger rocks to roll down its sides. Even lava, at one point.

Darunia insisted I leave. Not because I was _a_ danger—he was as emphatic on that point as Ruto was, that it had _not_ been my fault—but because I was _in_ danger. I was not, after all, a Goron, and while the Goron's tunic that I had taken to wearing everywhere—the red was pleasing to me, and it _did_ get uncomfortably hot for a while with the threat of lava to the City—could protect me from the extreme heat, it was a temporary protection, and too much heat would overwhelm it.

He escorted me, late at night, down to Kakariko village, and helped me over the gate that had been bricked over for the safety of villagers and Gorons alike. The rocks that were rolling down the mountain were entirely too damaging to allow into the village, and both sides had agreed that it was best to simply block the way and hope that soon the mountain would return to calmness.

“Be safe, my Sister,” he said quietly. “And harbor no doubts. We will meet again.”

He gave me a confident smile, and I couldn't help but smile back.

“Tell Link I'm sorry I can't time his race around the middle again,” I said softly back. “And be careful.”

He patted my leg very gently, then made a shooing motion. I sighed and obeyed, dropping to the ground on the other side of the wall.

Kakariko had changed somewhat since I'd last been there. Some places that had been homes were now shops, some buildings that had been in progress had finally been finished, and looked surprisingly welcoming in the darkness of night. There were a handful of plainly new homes as well, though most of them were dark.

I moved carefully through the silent village, slipping into Impa's house without even the creak of hinges. Off and on, other people occupied it, but I was granted some small luck that particular night. It was empty, and I was able to relax, if only for a short while.

What, I wondered, was I to do now. The forest was out; had been out since I'd left. Zora's Domain was still frozen over. Death Mountain was quite literally on fire some nights. Kakariko was still too close to what was now referred to as Dead Town for comfort, and they were still required to give tribute, or face the consequences.

I could not, in good conscience, stay in Kakariko. Going to Lake Hylia wasn't in the cards either; despite it still being a pocket of resistance, it was fed partially by the river that ran next to Gerudo Valley, and felt entirely too much like walking into a for-certain trap.

I wished, very quietly, that Sheik could have been there, and not just because I wanted to be held. He had been my link to what was happening outside my hiding places, and while the Gorons had been very good about keeping me in the loop, they had not necessarily told me _everything_.

I knew, for example, that a blight had been spreading for the past three years, outwards from Dead Town, affecting the villages closest to the place where Ganondorf had made his lair. The King of Evil had not actually been seen often outside his palace, but his heavy hand was felt everywhere. The skies that were gray over cursed areas told enough of a story that people would avoid such areas on principle alone.

People were slipping over the borders in every direction they could, hoping that other lands might offer safety, security, a new home. I could hardly blame them, and from time to time I had caught myself wondering what my mother, what my baby brother, would be up to. Were they safe? Were they alive? Did my mother still worry about me?

I didn't miss her that much any more, but I still wished.

I stayed in Impa's house that day, sleeping through most of it. After sleeping for so long on the hard ground, I was not used to how soft the bed felt, and in the end I laid out my bedroll on the floor next to it and slept there. This gave me an added bit of safety when someone barged into the house; all I had to do was roll under the bed, where I had already stowed the rest of my stuff, and wait in wary silence, throwing knives in hand.

The person, whoever they were, stayed on the main floor. Their friends came after a short while as well, and low-voiced muttering began. I was just tired enough that I ended up falling back asleep instead of listening in, and when I woke, they were gone. They had left something of a mess at that, which I cleaned up with a grimace, muttering about how people needed to respect the home of someone else, even if that someone didn't live there any more.

That more than anything decided me on the matter; Impa's home, no matter how much I appreciated it, was not safe for me. I decided to leave that night, to go onto the plains and see how well I could survive there.

There were no stalchildren on the plains, but they had been replaced by a far more annoying creature: poes. Poes are typically known as angry or vengeful spirits, and given how much of Hyrule had been turned into a battlefield, it wasn't too surprising for them to be in evidence. It was, however, highly troublesome. There lanterns were, often, a dead giveaway (pardon the pun), but it didn't make them very easy to avoid. Most would harry me, preventing me from resting and forcing me to shatter their lanterns before I could get any peace.

I needed a place with walls, doors, and untouched by blight. A month after my sojourn onto the plains, I found it, but it was not the place I had expected.

Lon-Lon Ranch was still in amazing, pristine condition. Or... well, it was Ingo Ranch at that point, as Ingo had tossed lazy Talon out on his ass, but allowed Malon to stay, as she did help with the work. It was to Malon I went first, and she was overjoyed to see me, agreeing quickly and easily to not tell Ingo that I was there.

Routine was worked out surprisingly quick; Malon liked to sing at night, in the empty corral—I could hardly blame her for taking comfort in her mother's song; I occasionally did the same with the songs I had been taught—and with the two of us doing the work, it went faster. We slept during the day, her in the main barn, and me behind the many crates in the storage silo.

Working with horses, after so long of not, felt strange for a while. After three months of being there—months in which I worried whether Sheik would find me again or not—I managed to convince Malon that taking a couple out every evening after Ingo went inside wouldn't do them, or us, any harm. Ingo, when he went inside, _stayed_ inside, leaving the running of the ranch to Malon. This made is easier for us to sneak the horses back out.

Not that the horses were _quiet_ , but Ingo never even looked as his windows, so we were about as safe as we could get.

Regaining my old skill took a while. I practiced on Epona when I could coax her to stand for me, and when I couldn't I rode one of the other horses. The fatigue from riding, even if only around in circles, helped me to sleep during the day as well.

Nights were amazingly peaceful on the ranch, even as downhearted as both Malon and I could get at times. I worked out a routine within the routine that had riding practice three times a week, and then two days each where I either studied the book of spells that Impa had loaned me, or practiced with the many bladed weapons I owned.

It felt harder to keep track of time while working at night and sleeping during the day. I made tally marks on the walls of the silo, but even then, I felt, occasionally, like I was losing days to lethargy, to... _routine_.

It was strange. I was concerned, but not afraid any longer. I still didn't want to be _seen_ during the day, but I was less and less worried about what might happen. The ranch, for all Ingo was not necessarily a _nice_ person, was more or less untouched by what was happening to the rest of Hyrule. I don't doubt now that this was because of the horses; Gerudo are some of the best horsewomen around. Back then, I only accepted it as the last safe place I had, and kept waiting.

I turned seventeen there; there was no celebration, but I didn't mind that. There wasn't much to celebrate, honestly. Perhaps if Sheik had found me at that point... But he still had not appeared, and I was starting to wonder if he, like Link, was simply gone now.

Two weeks later, I got my answer.

 

 


	8. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link's return, and making for the Forest Temple

Seven

 

I couldn't really say what I noticed first when I woke that night. My hand was tingling a little, but it did that whenever I slept on it wrong. The fact that it was the hand with the Triforce imprint on it wasn't really worth noticing; most of the time I even forgot it was there, hidden as it was under work gloves, or my fingerless leather gauntlets that I wore when I was practicing with my blades.

Whatever it was, it was subtle enough that I ignored it at first, plucking hay out of my braided hair—Malon had taught me how to braid, and it was the best way to both have long hair, and keep it out of my face—and changing into my practice clothing; it was a horse riding night, according to my mental schedule, and while I was not entirely feeling _up_ to it, I wasn't feeling ill enough to try and talk myself out of it.

The feeling became more noticeable after I stepped outside, and I held very still, lifting my head slightly and glancing around the ranch, seeking what felt so out of place. The horses were still in the corral—Ingo had started leaving that chore to Malon about two months before, making it easier to exercise them and practice at the same time—the sun was slowly westering, casting golden light and long shadows...

Uneasy now, I stepped back into the small shed, and packed up all my things, changing from my riding outfit to one that was more easy to fight in. I stretched out my limbs, checked the fit of long knives and throwing ones, then stepped back out into the evening gloom, ready, or so I thought, for anything.

I could see someone in the corral with Malon, and for a moment felt my heart jump; it jumped again as a pinpoint of pale blue light fluttered around the young man dressed in green. My breath caught, and all thought of caution fled. I didn't even bother with going around, I could scale the fence easily enough and proceeded to do so, perching lightly on the roof of the pasture's shelter, where the water and feeding troughs were.

The tunic and hat were far too distinctive, as was the blue hilt that poked over his left shoulder. My breath caught on a faint sob, as I struggled to decide if I was happy, relieved, or afraid. Malon had to know I was up there—I hadn't bothered with stealth—but she said something that kept Link's attention, pointing not towards me, but towards Epona, who was standing complacently nearby. It was kindness again, giving me a chance to catch my breath, rein in my emotions, and decide what I was going to do.

Not that it was a hard decision.

I jumped down, deliberately making enough noise to catch their attention; Navi dove under Link's hat as he turned to witness my approach, and I found myself stifling a laugh. I was taller than him too, and it was plainly surprising to both of us.

“...Raiha?”

His voice had changed as well; a sure tenor, somewhat deeper than Sheik's, and cautious, but not afraid. I couldn't help the lopsided smile, even as my traitorous heart flipped a little in my chest.

“It's been a long time you jerk,” I said, my voice soft.

He flushed a little, and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“Sorry?”

“I'll just bet. What's going on?”

The question I directed at Malon, who was beaming.

“Ingo's relented on dismissing Dad!” she said enthusiastically. “He's gone back to being the nice guy he used to be, and it's all thanks to Link here! Dad will be back soon, and we'll be able to go back to the way things used to be!”

Link looked embarrassed but pleased, making me laugh a little; gone for seven years, but still reacting as he had when we were children. When she leaned up and kissed his cheek, he turned an even brighter shade of red, and I allowed myself a snicker at his expense.

“I have to go get everything ready for Dad's return,” Malon said, all but bouncing on her toes in excitement. “I can't _wait_ for him to come back!”

And she scampered off, taking two of the horses with her towards the barn. I watched her go, smiling faintly, a little sadly, then looked to Link, who was looking at me.

“You know... you're not a Kokiri, right?” I asked, keeping my voice gentle.

Link nodded, looking a little unhappy.

“Saria always said I was different from the rest of them, and not just because I didn't have a fairy,” he replied, “she never teased me about that. I guess this is what she meant.”

I hesitated, then patted him on the shoulder. I knew what it was to suddenly not know what was true any longer, and after a moment he smiled at me.

“But with this height and strength, I can use the Master Sword, so... so it's a good thing.”

That made _me_ smile.

“You are still an eternal optimist,” I teased gently. “All right then. Has anyone told you about what happened these past seven years?”

“Only a little,” he admitted. “I saw what was left of the Market... where'd everyone go?”

“To safety,” I snorted a little. “If they're not in Kakariko, they're in one of the hamlets farther away from Dead Town, or trying to get over the mountains to other parts of the world that they think will be safer than here. Can't say I blame them...”

It was his turn to pat me on the shoulder, and I realized that I had allowed melancholy to leak into my voice. I gave myself a hard shake, and offered him a tired smile instead.

“Sorry. It's... been difficult.”

“I'm sorry too,” he said, surprising me. “According to the old man who woke me up in the Chamber of Sages, um...”

“Rauru,” Navi supplied.

“Yeah. Rauru! He told me that I was too young to wield the Master Sword when I pulled it, and that it sealed me away in the Sacred Realm until I was able. So... now, really. And, um... Sheik-”

“You've seen Sheik?!”

I couldn't have stopped myself from interrupting even if I'd tried. It surprised Link, but he nodded after a moment, and I breathed a sigh of heartfelt relief. I had been worried about him, if not brave enough to go looking. I was glad to hear that he was alive.

“He met me in the Temple of Time, and told me about the five Sages I would need to help wake up so that we could work to defeat Ganondorf. He... he also told me that I should get this thing from Kakariko before I tried to go anywhere else...”

He pulled out a strange looking item—the hookshot—from a pouch on his belt and handed it to me. I blinked at it, turned it over in my hands for a moment, then handed it back so he could put it away.

“I'm... glad,” I said quietly.

In truth, it felt as though a weight had been lifted. Maybe he hadn't been able to find me, but he had found Link. And with Link back into play, I could finally start to believe that the long nightmare would come to an end.

“Rai?”

“Hmm?”  
“There's... I mean, I ask Malon if we could borrow Epona and.. another horse.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Awfully presumptuous of you,” I said after a minute. As his face fell, I relented, and patted his shoulder lightly. “Yes, I'm coming. I saw the start of this, I'm damn well going to see the end of it. We're older, taller, stronger, and I am _damned_ tired of hiding.”

His expression took on the very familiar cast of 'you just said bad words,' and I restrained myself from falling back into the habits of seven years prior, and cursing just to see _how_ appalled I could make him. There was no point to it, and we didn't have the time to delay.

“Where are we going first?” I asked, as Malon came back to fetch two more horses, and leave gear for one.

“Sheik... suggested I go to the Forest Temple,” he said after a moment. “He said that the Sage who was waiting was someone I knew, a-and... and that she couldn't hear the call because there were too many monsters in the temple itself.”

I nodded and picked one of the remaining horses, saddling the dainty mare up with ease. Part of me regretted the fact that I wouldn't be riding double with him, but I pushed hormones aside and thought sensibly; Epona was not broad enough for two riders _and_ the saddlebags we would need to carry food and water and other things. Having my own horse was sensible.

The sense was more evident when I mounted, and Link rather clumsily followed suit. He looked uncertain about his seat, and I couldn't help but smile wryly, and started instruction on the finer parts of riding horses.

Even at an easy walk, riding the horses was much faster than walking the whole of the way across Hyrule plains to the Kokiri forest. True, we still got jumped by the occasional poe, but with the horses they were easier to out-distance. Link fell off a couple of times, but by the time we reached the entrance to the forest, around a week later, he was a fairly competent—if very _sore—_ rider.

We left the horses in the protected curve of land before the forest entrance; few people ventured here, fewer still left in one piece, so the horses were really not something to worry about.

The air of the forest was... tense. Link and I moved closer together on reflex alone, knowing as we did that any adult who walked into the forest never walked out. I don't know what the forest recognized in him—perhaps it wasn't so much him as it was Navi, who seemed happy to be back in the woods. Whatever the reason, we ended up in the hidden clearing that house the Kokiri village.

And almost got bitten by a very large, very _nasty_ Deku Baba. And when I saw large, I mean this thing towered of the both of us, and could probably have bitten us in half if we hadn't dodged; Link to the left and me to the right. Fortunately—thank all the goddesses for this— _large_ Deku Baba are still as stupid as _small_ Deku Baba, and just as easy to kill.

Naturally, we didn't stay long, though we did trade wide-eyed glances as we scrambled up to the entrance of the Lost Woods. The very normal-sized, normally-aggressive nature of the Deku Scrub at the top was almost a relief, and once it was dealt with, Link took a moment to scan his old home, eyes wide in shock.

“It wasn't anything like this when I was here,” I murmured, checking the edge of my throwing knife as I retrieved it from the plant. “I mean, every now and again a Deku scrub popped up, sure, but the Kokiri could deal with them easily...”

“With a Deku Baba that big, even stupid, it wouldn't be a good idea for Kokiri to approach,” Navi said when Link remained mutely stunned. “I hope they didn't have to learn that the hard way...”

That made me shudder, and Link's already pale face grew paler. Concerned, I reached out and gingerly caught his shoulder; if he fell the wrong way, he could end up headfirst in the water, and that would just end badly for everyone involved. He jumped at my touch, and swiveled to face me after a minute.

“W... when you were here?” he managed after a minute.

I nodded.

“I hid here for a couple of years until I got too tall,” I replied, gently leading him towards the giant hollow-log entrance. “Saria helped me out. I stayed in your house at that.”

“...bet Mido liked that,” he mumbled, color slowly returning to his face.

I knew my grin was all teeth.

“He stopped pestering me after I decked him one,” I said cheerfully. “Saria never quite figured out why, but she was glad he stopped.”

Link blinked at me.

“You....”

“Punched him,” I nodded. “There were only a couple others around to see, and I was in a bad mood. I didn't break anything, but after that, he steered clear.”

Navi's chiming laugh rang out as we entered the Lost Wood, and I grinned up at the fairy. Link just blinked at me, then shook his head slowly. I offered him a wry shrug, and chuckled a little.

“I kind of miss the little cuss,” I admitted. “I hope he's staying safe in his house like the rest of them. Hells, I hope the rest of them _are_ safe...”

“This must be because of what Ganondorf did,” Link said quietly after a minute. “He cursed the Great Deku Tree, and the he died. He was our guardian and always made sure the forest was safe for us, but...”

I nodded a little in understanding, taking turns as automatically as he was.

“Saria took me to see him,” I said after a minute. “Biggest damn tree I've ever seen anywhere, and now I can actually say that because I've been to a _lot_ of places in Hyrule. I wish I could've known him while he was alive...”

Link smiled at me, and I smiled back. For a moment, everything was all right.

Of course it couldn't last, and we were both bapped fiercely in the face with deku seeds. I squeaked, Link squawked, and we both turned to see Mido fiercely guarding the path, slingshot discarded, deku stick at the ready for an attack.

“You, you;re not Kokiri!” he yelped, waving the stick rather frantically before him. “How did you get into our forest?! How did you-”

Navi promptly buzzed his face, making him duck. I rubbed the new stinging welt across my cheek, muttering various obscenities as I did so; Link's scandalized look put me in a better mood.

“What're you doing out here?” I asked him. “Shouldn't you be back in the village?”

Mido gave me a suspicious look, waving the stick threateningly. I just leaned back slightly, allowing him the show of force; as annoying as he was, he wouldn't have abandoned his role as leader of the children without a good reason.

“Saria asked me to watch the path,” he said when neither Link nor I made a threatening move towards him. “I promised here I wouldn't let _anyone_ go through here!”

“Pint-size, you can't exactly _stop_ us,” I pointed out.

That just made Mido's face go red, and he swung the stick as fast as he could. I stepped back slightly, just to get out of range, and glanced at Link, who was just watching contemplatively.

“I could just pick him up and move him,” I offered. “He's not that tall or heavy.”

“That wouldn't be very nice,” Link protested.

“Who ever said I was _nice_?” I retorted. “We need to get to the Sacred Forest Meadow, don't we? We don't exactly have time to be dealing with small and spiteful.”

“Just... hang on a minute. Let me try something?”

I shrugged and motioned slightly with my hand.

“If you think you can make him move, be my guest.”

Link stepped forward, and Mido swung the stick at him. It broke on Link's forearm, and I stifled a laugh at Mido's rather startled expression. Link just pulled out a familiar, blue ocarina, and played an equally familiar song, bright and cheery notes echoing throughout the forest. Mido went still, looking up at Link in surprise.

“You... That's... You know Saria's song?” The hostility faded, replaced by uncertainty. “She only taught that song to her friends...”

He hesitated, looking from Link tome, and then back. After a minute he lowered what was left of the Deku stick, nodding a little.

“All right. I'll trust you. If... if you can, please save Saria?”

I blinked at Link as he nodded, surprised at how that had actually worked. He glanced at me, and offered a tiny smile that was both pleased, and a little bit shy. As we left the Kokiri leader behind, I couldn't help but smile back.

“All right, I admit it, that was impressive. I can't believe it actually worked...”

Link's expression turned a bit sheepish.

“I didn't know if it would, but Saria's always played that song,” he admitted. “I thought... if we needed to prove that we knew Saria...”

I reached out and gently patted his shoulder.

“Hey. You did good. I never would have thought of that. I would have just moved him out of the way and probably thumped him if he got too confrontational.”

Link's sheepish expression turned rueful, and I had to laugh. Plainly I hadn't been the only one considering the idea, even if he never would have gone through with it. In a way, the fact that Link hadn't actually changed was a comfort; I knew that I _had_ changed, and wasn't entirely sure if the changes were good or bad.

The maze was occupied this time by moblins, far bigger than any I'd seen before or since. Armed with spears, and surprisingly fast despite their size, they made getting through intact a challenge. In truth, there wasn't a way through that didn't involve killing them, though the way they burst into green flames afterward made me suspect that they were more magical creation than true moblin. I had run across the theory in the book Impa had given me; it takes quite a bit of power to make such things...

But that is neither here nor there.

Link rushed up the stairs, eager, I knew, to see his childhood friend once more. I could tell even before we made it to the top that she wouldn't be there; the forest echoed with the melody of her song, but it was just that; an echo.

He stopped short at the top of the stairs, allowing me to catch up, and I put a hand on his slumped shoulder sympathetically.

“Sorry Link,” I said quietly. “It was kind of a long shot that she'd be here, but I was hoping too...”

He sighed a little, and we headed over to the stump at a slow walk, my hand finding his for support. It did seem to help a little, though he looked down at the stump sadly.

My right hand had been tingling in a low-level manner the entire time I was with Link, to the point where I could tune it out. When it increased abruptly I hissed, pulling my hand out of his to massage it. Three seconds later, Zelda, disguised as Sheik, landed on the far end of the clearing.

My heart just about jumped up into my throat. It had been a year and some. I had _missed_ him so fiercely at times that I had wanted to cry.

'Sheik' looked my way, but there was nothing more than a coolly neutral nod. Something about it rooted my feet to the ground; had he not been worried about me at all? Or was he trying to maintain that distance again, despite everything?

I had no idea, at the time, that Zelda and Sheik were twins. _Zelda_ had no idea that she and Sheik were twins. Impa knew, and Sheik knew. That was, at that moment in time, the extent of it.

After a moment, 'Sheik's' gave centered on Link.

“The flow of time is always cruel,” he said. “Its speed seemed different for everyone, but no one can change it. That which doesn't change are the memories of younger days.” Lightly, he touched the strings of his harp, and instrument I hadn't seen him play before, and wondered if this was why he'd had to leave for six months. “If you wish to return here quickly one day, you must play the Minuet of Forest.”

'Sheik' played the notes of the song several times; a light tune, almost airy in nature, albeit very short. I could almost feel the swaying of the trees as they danced along with his tune. Link listened, and after a few minutes started playing too. After a bit of fumbling, the two instruments harmonized, and I even I couldn't help humming along. The ancient magic in the notes was.... comforting.

When the song ended, 'Sheik' carefully slung the harp over one shoulder, then nodded to us lightly.

“I'll see you again,” he promised.

Then, with the flare of a Deku nut—the first of the smaller clues that this was _not_ the Sheik I knew—he vanished.

I was left blinking at the spot he'd been in, and wondering silently if he had been remanded to Link's guard instead of mine. The idea hurt enough that I mentally shied away from it. He was just being careful, that was all. That had to be all.

“Well okay then,” I sighed a little. “So. Shall we go in?”


	9. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Forest Temple, and the truth of Link's heritage. Plus a bit of confusion.

Eight

 

The answer, of course, was yes. It wasn't like there was any _other_ temple we needed to go into. Getting up to the Forest Temple took a bit of finagling, considering the busted staircase, but we managed it after a bit. Link went up first, then tossed the hookshot down to me. I wasn't _entirely_ ready for the recoil, but I didn't go flying either. Small favors. My shoulder certainly didn't appreciate the rough jerk, and I was muttering darkly under my breath when I handed it back.

Link just grinned at me a little as we walked in, though he wisely didn't touch the aching shoulder. The grin fled as we were set upon by two wolfos, and we separated instantly, Him once again to the left, and me to the right.

I was lucky to be ambidextrous; I could draw both my knives, and work well with either hand. I kept my eyes on my wolfos, hoping that Link actually _knew_ how to use his sword, and ducked back out of range as it swiped at me. It feinted in close a couple of times, seemingly testing my reflexes, and I managed to give one paw a good slice when it did so.

It howled in rage, and lunged at me. I ducked under, and went for the jugular.

And no, that's not metaphorical.

It was a good thing I wasn't wearing either of the magical tunics, as wolfos blood is very difficult to get out of pretty much everything. The body dropped like a stone, however, and I simply wiped my blades on the fur before looking up in time to see Link do something similar. He had the fortune to be farther back, the lucky bastard, and so missed the spray of blood that would have otherwise coated him.

That was just not fair, and I said as much. He gave me a sheepish grin, as I did my best to clean the blood from my face and hair, and grumbled about how I was going to need a bath once this was over.

The temple itself was a pretty puzzle, and I mean that in the nicest, most polite way possible. (It had nothing on one of the later temples, which I ended up not being allowed to go through at all thanks to some very nasty spells. But I'll get to that later.) Four lit torches allowed access to a moving platform that led to a basement.

Keep in mind, that's four _lit_ torches. The moment the door was closed behind us, before we could even take a single _step_ towards that central platform, four poes appeared, and each one stole a flame, then floated off into the depths of the temple. Link looked at me. I looked at Link. And we both groaned.

“No one ever said this would be easy,” I grumbled as we started across the room towards the visible, unlocked door. “But just once. _Just once_. It would be nice.”

It made him laugh a little.

The rooms of the temple led us in patterns. We found keys, unlocked doors, tripped switches both accidentally and on purpose, and a few times had to retrace our steps and scour a room because we missed something... or because the damned wallmasters dropped us back at the entrance. I still can't decide if those things are benign or not, but they are _very_ annoying. There were also some rather bizarre corridors, and I still want to know how the twisting and untwisting worked.

Still, some good did come of getting the runaround in that temple. Picking up a new bow, after several years of _not_ having one, gave me a small amount of difficulty at first. But, like riding a horse, the more I shot, the more the skill returned to me, until I was performing _almost—almost,_ mind you—flawlessly.

Those poes didn't know what hit them. Heh.

The last poe was the trickiest, and I was glad of Link's presence then, as he was able to tell me—after some fumbling where we both got thwacked—which one was the real one. At her defeat, I almost fell off the top of the moving platform as it raised again.

...all right, so there was no 'almost' about that one. I did fall. Link got a little... flattened. Navi laughed at us as we untangled, and I helped Link to stand, trying not to laugh myself. It had been a very graceless move, but other than being a little winded, he assured me that he was perfectly fine.

The room underneath was one large basement, with a long rug running from one end to the other. Though we had both kept our eyes open, even stopping to have Link try and contact Saria through her song, there had been no sign of our green-haired friend, and down here appeared to be no different. As we walked down the narrow hall to the room at the end, I absently started chafing at my arms.

“You okay?” Link asked, giving me a concerned look.

“Mmn?” I blinked, and glanced down at him. “Oh. It's... chilly. Not _cold,”_ I knew how cold felt, and knew too, that we were going to have to go to Zora's Domain at some point, “but...”

“I'd have thought you'd be used to Hyrule weather after so long,” Navi piped up, though she sounded a little worried more than anything else.

I couldn't help but smile at her, taking the tease as good-naturedly as possible.

“You'd think,” I replied wryly. “But when it rains in winter, I still put on a dozen layers and sit close enough to the fire to practically be _in_ it. This isn't the same cold,” I added after a minute. “There's... it's something.... darker. I'm not sure I can explain it much better than that. Just...”

Link stopped, and waited for me to find the right words; he was very good at that, the waiting, I mean. Having patience. Much better than I was at the time.

“I think,” I finally said, “that we're heading for the source of whatever's causing problems, both here specifically, and in the Kokiri village. And... I don't know. It's....”

I just shook my head. I didn't have the words to really describe the sensation. The way the darkness felt as we drew closer to it. It wasn't a physical cold, but it sent shivers up and down my spine, as though someone was dripping ice water down my back. It made me afraid, but... in the time I had spent hiding, I had learned how to change fear, to twist it into anger, which gave me strength. I didn't _rely_ on this anger, Nayru, no, that would have been less than sensible. But I had turned it into something useful. Not always; in certain situations my fear could still still overwhelm me, freeze me in place. But with the smaller fears, my unease, my nervousness... those I could put to use.

We ended up in a gallery; the room was round-ish, with guardrails preventing us from getting too much closer to the paintings on the walls. The paintings themselves were identical, and produced a far firmer shiver than just walking down the hall had.

To my surprise, Link reached out and caught my hand, giving it a squeeze that felt reassuring. Touched, I squeezed lightly back.

“They're all the same,” Navi said as we finished circling the admittedly-small room. “The paintings are identical, but...”

“But there's otherwise nothing in here,” I finished, nodding a little bit. “It's weird. This... _feels_ like the place we're supposed to be in. Maybe we missed a room?”

“Let's go back and look,” Link suggested, turning towards the exit. “Maybe we missed a sw-”

A gate snapped up between us and the way out. We dropped hands in unison, and Link's blade cleared its sheathe as he pivoted, surprising me as he put himself between me and whatever was now behind us. The snort of a horse had me scramble around as well, though I wasn't sure which weapon I ought to grab; long knife, throwing dagger, or bow. Choice died as I came around to see a black horse and his rider.

For a moment, my heart thumped painfully up into my throat. Then, as my brain caught up with my instinct, the glaring inconsistencies made themselves felt; it couldn't be Ganon, there was simply not enough _power_ to the creature to be the King of Evil. As my muscles unlocked from panicked indecision, the creature laughed and leaped into the air. The face changed from that of the Gerudo I feared to something far less intimidating; a skull with glowing eyes.

Yes, I know. Some would think that _more_ intimidating. Perhaps it was a different kind of intimidating for Link, but I was so relieved to have my half-formed guess confirmed that I nearly got clobbered by the intricate spear it was wielding as it rode past us and into the painting at our backs.

It didn't take us long to figure out the pattern to this particular fight, though it was certainly annoying. Two different galloping ghosts would form, riding headlong down the 'painting' in the road. One would then materialize, jumping over us and launching a magical attack that arced lightning across the ground before ending up in a different painting. The first two times this happened, neither Link, nor I were entirely sure about what we ought to do, and as consequence, we got... well... _zapped_.

And let me say, magical lightning is _very_ unpleasant. Especially when carrying the amount of metal that I was. Inevitably, I ended up getting so irritated by this that I threw one of my knives at the damn thing as it was emerging from a painting. The growled sound of pain was gratifying, as was watching it retreat back into the painting.

Link helped me stand up, as I realized that by throwing my daggers I was effectively losing them. The next time I caught the phantom trying to emerge, I shot him more or less full in the face.

What can I say; in some things I am only mortal. Being petty and vindictive _does_ tend to happen. And really, it was also a bit cathartic, since there was almost no chance I was going to be able to shoot the _real_ Ganondorf in the face.

The phantom only suffered a few more hits before it abandoned the horse and came down more or less to our level. The end of his spear began glowing with magic, the electricity spell contained in a ball of glowing light. When it launched, I dodged.

Link, however, did not.

He swatted his sword through the air, and the spell _bounced_. As though he was place a game with ball and racket, the spell bounced back towards the phantom, who failed to dodge; I wondered then, as I wonder now, if it was as surprised as I was by the unexpected turn of events. Whatever the reason, the spell did as it was meant, and the phantom fell to the floor, stunned.

Link's skill surprised me, I admit. While he had put his sword to good use in traversing the temple, the moves he made while fighting the phantom—it didn't stay stunned long enough for him to _get_ a decisive first hit, I'm afraid—were on another level entirely. I was impressed, and felt somewhat superfluous at that. He didn't need _my_ help to beat the phantom, he did that quite handily on his own.

I about jumped out of my skin when Link landed the decisive blow, feeling a sudden surge in power. My hand began to ache again, and I swore softly, backing away from the portal that formed at the room's center as the phantom burned with a blue-white fire.

**Well well well. You might actually have some skill, boy. But you have defeated** _**only** _ **my phantom. A real fight would go much differently...**

I cringed back against the still-closed gate, silently praying to the three goddesses that I was going unnoticed.

**Bah. A worthless creation such as this has no further use to me. Begone!**

The phantom's scream was hard on the ears; I didn't feel sorry for the thing, but it was  _ painfully _ loud as it vanished into the wavering portal. As the portal snapped shut, the sense of looming power vanished as well, and my hand stopped hurting quite so much, allowing me to catch my breath. Link had remained tense and wary, but he seemed to sense the power leaving as well, and when it did, he hurried over to me, sword back in its sheathe, concern on his face.

“I'm all right,” I said, waving a hand lightly as I straightened. “That... that was strange. But... But we won, so I guess it works?”

“That was definitely a strange win,” he admitted, uneasily rubbing the back of his neck. “Does... does it feel any different in here to you?”

I considered the question, and started to answer when a new portal formed, this one in glowing green light. Link jumped at the soft humming that echoed through the chamber, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Well, it doesn't feel dark any more,” I said. “It feels... cleaner. Lighter. We earned that victory, even if he sort of gave it to us at the end.”

Link nodded after a moment, eyeing the portal.

“Where do you think it leads?” he asked.

“Out,” I replied, giving him a wry smile. “But... nowhere bad. It's too warm for that. I think, wherever it leads, it's where we're supposed to go, and where we'll find an answer about Saria.”

He hesitated a minute more, and this time I took his hand, leading him into the light as though we traveled through portals like this on a daily basis. The light surrounded us, encasing us in a great green crystal, and the temple faded from view.

What faded in, the Chamber of Sages, was not what I had expected.

The Chamber of Sages inside the Temple of Light was not a place I needed to go when I had been in the Sacred Realm as a child. I couldn't help but stare around me in awe at the dark space that was spattered with pillars of light, something that looked like water cascading from them. Whether it was, or it wasn't, I couldn't tell. It certainly  _ seemed _ like water.

I have not been in the Temple of Light itself since that long ago venture, and while I entered the Chamber of Sages many times, I was never really given a concrete answer as to what the pillers were. They appeared to be water, but the longer I have examined the memory, the more I think they were large crystals, and the color was merely a refraction of the light that poured into them. Another thought is that they were simply made with magic, and defy description.

In any case, we landed on the largest, in the middle of a slightly upraised Triforce symbol facing the Forest Pedestal. The air itself was saturated with magic, and I caught myself longing to look around, to  _ understand _ what I was seeing.

Before I could even think to express this desire, the Forest Pedestal began to glow green, and Saria unfolded from its depths. Link and I both made sounds of delight, and she smiled warmly at us.

“Thank you,” she said. “Because of this, and what you've done, I could awaken as the Sage of the Forest Temple.” After a moment, the warm smile turned a bit wry. “I always believed that  _ one _ of you would come, once you heard about our plight. I didn't entirely expect both. But still, thank you so much.”

“Saria,” Link began.

She shook her head, her smile turning sad.

“No, you don't need to explain, Link,” she said softly. “It is destiny that we cannot live in the same world. I have to stay here, and as the Forest Sage, I can help you best like this. Especially if you take this medallion.”

She lifted a hand, and from high overhead, green light flashed. It coalesced overhead as a green medallion, the Triforce on one side, and the symbol of the Forest Temple on the front.

“If you hold the medallion in your hands and call my name, I will hear you,” she said with a small smile as we looked at it. “I may even be able to offer advice if you need it. It also has one other helpful piece of magic; as long as you have it, if you want to eat something and it grows in the earth, just ask and it will appear.”

“...so if I wanted an apple- oh cool!”

As first tests go, it was surprising enough that I almost dropped the apple, making Saria giggle. I managed to catch it after only a little fumbling, and both Link and I inspected it curiously. After a minute, I used one of my throwing knives to carve out a piece, and ate it.

It tasted, as you might expect, like a ripe apple. That more than anything else was really worth being impressed over.

We could have stayed there for hours, if the magic had allowed it, but once we'd tested out the medallion, we started losing weight. Saria watched us go with a small smile, and her voice echoed in my head.

_ I will always be your friend. _

When the light deposited us to the ground once more, we were in the meadow of the Great Deku Tree. The ancient, dead tree stretched out overhead, still full of brown leaves that had yet to fall, even after seven years. Link looked up, pained, as I finished eating the apple, and tossed the core away as I noticed something pale brown sticking up from amidst the fallen foliage. I nudged him after a minute and pointed, and he approached it with caution, peering carefully.

When it  _ launched _ upwards, he yelped, and went sprawling onto his back. I jumped, but couldn't help laughing; my best friend had just been clobbered by a  _ tree _ , of all things. It was hard to  _ not _ be amused.

The small tree with a face—I wasn't surprised by this, given where we were standing—peered a little at Link as I helped him sit up.

“Hi there,” it greeted us cheerfully. “I'm the Deku Tree sprout! Because you helped to break the curse on the Forest Temple, I can now grow as I'm supposed to! Thank you! It was getting boring stuck underground!”

Link nodded a little numbly, and I was still trying to stifle my giggles when it spoke again.

“No doubt you've seen your old friends by now, or at least a couple of them. They didn't much recognize you, did they?” The tree sprout waited as Link shook his head. “That's because, as you've no doubt figured out, the Kokiri don't grow up. You are, in all actuality, a Hylian!”

A brief flicker of pain crossed Link's face, and I gently put an arm across his shoulders.

“How... how did I end up with the Kokiri?” he asked, voice shaking slightly.

“A long time ago, before the King of Hyrule unified this country, there was a fierce and brutal war. In an effort to escape it, a Hylian mother brought herself and her baby boy into this forbidden forest. Unfortunately, the mother suffered grave injuries, and was not able to survive. She entrusted the boy to the Deku Tree, who sensed that this boy would one day change the fate of this world, and thus, he was raised as a Kokiri, to await that day.”

Link was trembling slightly, and I hugged him gently.

“You were always bound to leave the forest one day,” the small tree said solemnly. “And now, knowing this as you do, the path you will take is clear, isn't it?”

He nodded a little, taking in a slow breath.

“I have to save Hyrule,” he said, voice low but firm.

“You me  _ we _ have to save Hyrule,” I said, jostling him gently.

He smiled up at me, eyes tear-bright, and I hugged him lightly again in understanding. I was still Gerudo, from top to toe, but this pain was familiar. He could never go back to being a clueless kid, a Kokiri child, just as I could never really return to the Gerudo girl I had been.

“You must lift the curses on the remaining temples and awaken the Sages,” the tree said, it's tone rising from solemn back into cheery. “Good luck!”

The seemed to be a dismissal. Link turned after a moment more of looking up at the grand old tree, then sighed, and turned away, heading back into the Kokiri village.

“You gonna be okay?” I asked, letting my arm drop from his shoulders.

“...Yeah,” he sighed a little. “I mean, you already brought it up, and I kind of suspected it from the start, but...”

“But it's still hard knowing you aren't who you thought.”

He nodded a little, head hanging somewhat morosely.

“You know what you are though?”

He glanced up at me, and I smiled wryly.

“You're still  _ you _ . And that's pretty impressive.”

He blinked, then blushed. I grinned, giving his shoulder a light, friendly swat.

“There's no way we're gonna be comfortable sticking around here,” I said after a minute. “We're both way too tall for that. But.... but I don't know where we ought to go next, honestly.”

“That cloud around Death Mountain is worrying,” Navi said. “Did something happen to the Gorons?”

I winced.

“Something's happened to pretty much  _ everyone _ ,” I said after a minute. “But...”

Link looked at me, and I sighed.

“...Lemme condense seven years real quick. I was here for three, with the Zora for two and a half, with the Gorons for two and a quarter, and then at the ranch. There's... there's a lot of bad things that happened, and I can't help feeling like some of it is my fault because I was sheltering with them.”

We sat down just inside the Lost Woods as I tried to find the right words, Link leaning against me comfortingly.

“Ruto and Darunia both don't blame me for what happened, and both races were heavily invested in the resistance against Ganondorf, so maybe they're right, but  _ I _ feel as though it's my fault. Just... just to forewarn you and all. I don't entirely know what's wrong with the mountain. I only  _ kind of _ know what's wrong with the Zora, and not how to fix it... And I want to fix it because even if it's not it  _ feels _ like I share some of the blame.”

I managed to get it all out in one breath at that. Link and Navi were both quiet for a moment, then Link hugged me quickly.

“If they don't blame you, then it's not your fault,” he said firmly. “We'll fix it. Promise.”

I couldn't help but smile. I hadn't been able to do it on my own, but I wasn't alone any longer. That helped.

“All right. So. Let's go see if we can help the Gorons first. The Zora... will keep,” and even though I knew it to be the truth, I winced, and hoped Ruto and her people would forgive me.

Link nodded, and we both got up to head towards a familiar stone doorway.

 


	10. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gorons, Sheik, and the Fire Temple

Nine

 

I had never before seen the city so utterly silent as it was when we arrived. The torches were lit, though some of them were just barely, and there was no steady murmur of Goron voices. Just the faint hint of rumble and crash from a lone, small Goron rolling around and around the second tier of the city.

We searched, before we tried to stop the young one. Darunia's room and the Goron shop were both sealed by doors that we couldn't get through. I searched the interior from top to bottom while Link went outside and searched down the trail to the base of the mountain and back, dodging boulders that came rolling down from the mountains and flying from the volcano itself.

By the time he came back in, I had managed to cover the fact that everyone missing had made me physically ill. I knew Darunia wouldn't blame this on me, but  _ I _ blamed me. If I had hidden somewhere else, perhaps, none of this would have happened.

I know now that they are right, Ruto and Darunia both. It was not my fault. If anyone was to blame, it was Ganondorf, for his desire for power and control. He had placed the curses on the temples to prevent the awakenings, and to gain some revenge for the fact that they had defied him for so long. My presence, or lack thereof, would have made no difference.

But at that time, I was still so very young, and I loved much easier. The Gorons and the Zora had both become, in small part, my new tribe, and them being gone was almost too much to bear.

“...he's the only Goron left,” I said quietly, nodding at the rolling Goron child. “He won't respond to me when I speak. I think his crashing into the ground prevents him from even noticing me.”

Link took my hand for a moment, and squeezed gently. I managed a weak smile, one that I knew didn't—couldn't—reach my eyes, and squeezed back.

“So... if he won't talk while he's rolling, can we make him stop?”

I half-shrugged.

“I don't know,” I admitted. “I had thought my voice my reach him, as they all know me, but... but clearly that was overly optimistic.”

He squeezed my hand again, clearly trying to be comforting. I sighed gustily, and let myself lean against him for a minute, even as I wished that he were Sheik. I contemplated briefly why Sheik hadn't even acknowledged me that much in the Sacred Forest Meadow, before shoving the question away.

“Other Gorons would provide a blockade if they needed to stop the rollers, but... well, if we try it, we'll just get run over, and probably break things. Like bones,” I continued after a minute. “Which, y'know, wouldn't end well.”

“The Light medallion would help with that,” Link volunteered. “Rauru said that it would help the person holding it to heal faster.”

“Faster doesn't mean instant though,” I pointed out, “and having to wait weeks because we did something stupid in the name of something good kind of defeats the purpose, don't you think?”

He nodded after a minute, and looked down, towards the rolling Goron child.

“Who is it, do you know?”

This got a real smile, even as I stayed away from the edge. Even a fence between me and the edge gave little comfort from the fact that it was so  _ very _ high.

“I think it's Darunia's son. Link.”

Link turned and blinked at me. I couldn't help the weak giggle.

“Yeah. He named his kid after you, because you cleared out the dodongo.”

“Not you?”

“Link's a boy. I think. Don't ask me, I'm not a Goron. I just called them all Brother, and they called me Brother.” I paused for a moment, then smiled a little wryly. “Except Darunia, who called me Sister, when he didn't call me by name.”

That made Link smile too.

“But not much hurts them,” I said thoughtfully. “I've seen them shake off bomb blasts with no troubles.”

“Throwing bombs at a kid just sounds so wrong,” Navi opined.

I half-smiled, half-grimaced in agreement.

“Still, if it's the only way to stop him, then we should probably give it a try,” I sighed a little, rubbing the back of my neck with my free hand. “I need to know what happened here...”

Of course, stopping him was easier said than done. While Link still had the bomb bag, and we'd both grown enough in strength to pull bomb flowers with ease, it was a matter of  _ timing. _ And that was a small bit problematic. As in, neither of us were very  _ good _ at it. We avoided blowing  _ ourselves _ up to be certain, but more often than not, Link the Goron would simply roll back in the direction he'd come from. Or bounce over the bomb, and let it detonate behind him.

In the depth of Goron City, there's a sort of... timelessness. Without being near the surface entrance, the passage of time was hard to keep track of. Gorons tended to eat or sleep as they grew hungry or tired. Link the Goron seemed to not feel either of those, which only added to a growing sense of frustration.

I had never cast Din's Fire in anger before. But I was so  _ stressed. _ Link laid the bomb, hissing, in the small Goron's path; when he jumped over it, then hurriedly started turning around to avoid running into us—something that I hadn't entirely expected the first time but had grown annoyed with as the hours passed and bombs were wasted—something in me just popped. 

Now, the default form of Din's Fire is a dome of fire with the caster at it's center that expands rapidly outwards, dependent on the power the caster puts into the spell. I had had the crystal for a handful of years, and learned other ways to utilized the flames.

Like... fireballs.

I am still not proud of that, but it did do the trick. The explosion of fire and bomb knocked the young Goron sideways, and he rolled to a stop against the wall. When he came up, he was ready to fight, his hands curled into fists, one of which was already cocked back and ready to swing.

“All right you, you Ganondorf's soldiers!” he cried. “Bring it on, goro!”

I just muttered a few choice phrases under my breath about children being stubborn, and tapped my foot irritably.

“Do I  _ look _ like a solider to you, Link?” I demanded.

Both Hylian and Goron jumped at the sharpness of my voice. Link the Goron looked at me for a long moment, then rushed in and gave me a hug that squeezed the air right out of me.

“Gentle,  _ gentle! _ ” I yelped, feeling my back popping. 

“Oh! S-sorry, goro,” he said sheepishly, putting me down gingerly. “Brother, you've come back! Are you here to save everyone?”

I massaged my ribs gingerly, nodding a little, then quickly warded off another hug.

“Link the Goron, meet Link the dodongo buster,” I said hastily, pointing to the blonde young man. “Link, Link.”

It sounded ridiculous, not to mention confusing, but it did the trick, diverting the young Goron in his tracks.

“Really? The legendary dodongo buster and hero, Link?” he asked, eyes shining.

“Uh...” Link looked at me, and I nodded. “Yes?”

“Wow! Brother, you brought someone  _ really _ strong to help you! You'll  _ definitely _ be able to rescue the others!”

I frowned.

“Excuse you,” I huffed. “Pretty sure I could save them on my own!”

Link the Goron looked a bit sheepish. After a moment I sighed, relenting.

“But he will be helpful, yes. Tell us what happened.”

Link the Goron nodded, looking serious for a moment.

“When Dad took you down the mountain, Ganondorf's men came and rounded up the others who guarded the path up, goro,” he said, expression falling a little. “And then a few weeks later, other Gorons started going missing too, until eventually there were only a few left here, and then Ganondorf's men came in force somehow, goro, and caught everyone else but me and Dad.

“Dad locked us in his room, and they didn't try to break the door down, goro, they only laughed and said that they'd captured enough of us to feed to Volvagia, a-and...”

And the Goron child burst into tears. I winced, stepping forward to put an arm around his shoulders.

“What's 'Volvagia'?” Navi asked, bobbing light around the wailing Goron's head.

“A legend and spooky story, mostly,” I replied. “I think...”

“A-a long time ago, goro, there was a mean dragon in the mountain,” Link interrupted, sniffling. “He _ate_ Gorons! B-but the hero of the Gorons... _Boom!_ ” And he smacked a hand down onto the ground, producing a small indent and a myriad of cracks. “Killed him just like that, with a huge hammer! Dad says it's a myth, but it's also true, because we're descended from that hero!”

He rubbed at his eyes, but it wasn't hard to guess that he was starting to feel teary again.

“Where _is_ Darunia?” I asked hastily, wanting to ward off more wailing.

“He w-went to the Fire Temple, goro, to try and save everyone. That's where the dragon is, goro.”

“Which means that's where they took everyone else...” I nodded slowly. “Link, kiddo, we'll get them all back, but I need you to do me a favor, okay?”

“Wh-what, goro?”

“Two things. I need you to open the door to Darunia's room, and he,” I motioned to Link the Hylian, who had been listening quietly, “is going to need a Goron tunic so that the heat doesn't flatten him to death.”

“....Dad said I shouldn't b-but....” Link the Goron sniffled a little, and straightened his spine a bit. “But you can help, goro, so I will.”

I smiled a little, and patted him on the head.

The young Goron preceded us down the stairs, and lifted the doors that blocked the way into the Goron shop, and Darunia's chambers. I felt almost nostalgic to see the heavy stone door lifting up, and I shook myself after a moment. We weren't children any more, and now was not the time to think such.

Link went into the shop and returned quickly, handing over a Goron tunic to his Hylian counterpart, who glanced over at me. I nodded a little.

“Trust me, you'll need it,” I said with a dry smile. “Just change.”

I was glad to change out of my wolfos-blood-spattered shirt, and lacked the modesty to care that I was essentially stripping before Link, trading the ruined shirt and leggings for the magical Fire tunic, and clean pants. It was almost amusing to see that he'd turned a bright red and was torn between staring and not staring as I adjusted my belts, and slung the bow over my back.

Modesty is entirely a Hylian thing, I swear. Though perhaps it's born from there being a disparity of genders? Hm.

Either way, once he noticed I had noticed, his blush got worse, and he quickly traded his Kokiri-green for the Goron-red. And I will not lie, it looked _very_ attractive on him. Being much _less_ on the easily embarrassed scale, I nodded approvingly.

“Looks good on you,” I teased.

That just made him blush harder. I couldn't help but snicker.

I had known for a while that the statue in Darunia's room could be moved; while it was near-flush with the wall, there was just enough leeway to feel hot air sliding through every now and again. And I'll say again, the hot air of a volcano is _not_ the same as the hot air in a desert. This heat tended to make me feel like I was actually melting.

The interior of the volcano is much _bigger_ than it initially appears. Lava that never cools rumbled softly below the solid portions of the large ledge we came out on, and the heat hit like a hammer blow. Link immediately staggered, and I swore a little; it was my first time actually going into the crater myself, so while I had some experience with the heat of lava—there was some held in a sort of abeyance in the Goron City itself—to feel it on this level was... well, _staggering_.

A light haze made the air wavery and somewhat difficult to see through. Once we'd both regained our balance we looked around, with me staying far back from the visible edge; looking down onto lava was much like looking down onto the ground that was very far away. Either way meant death to me.

Eventually Link found the broken bridge, and waved me over.

“Think you can jump that?” he asked.

Assessing a gap without looking down wasn't easy, and despite the smothering heat, I shivered, and shook my head.

“Probably not a good idea for me to try,” I admitted, rubbing my palms lightly against my hips nervously. “I can't decide if that makes Darunia clever or dumb...”

That made him snort a little.

“All right, well, if you can't jump it, you'll have to hold on. Dropping the hookshot in the lava would probably be bad too.”

It was the first joke I'd heard him make, and I blinked at him in surprise, then managed a tiny smile.

“Thanks, Link.”

It was hard to tell if he was blushing, the heat from the volcano had us both rather flushed. But I still think he was.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and closed my eyes. He put an arm that trembled, just a little, around my waist, then used the hookshot to get us safely across the gap. When my feet his the wooden slats on the other side, I loosened my hold some, and peeked very carefully before releasing him fully; the bridge had no rails, no, but as long as I looked at the _end_ of the bridge, and not down at the gaps, I would be fine.

As if sensing this, Link took my hand, giving me an anchor should I mess up, and led the way. We made it halfway down when Sheik appeared. This time, it was _my_ Sheik, though how I knew I wasn't sure. I watched him land easily on the dirt that comprised the anchored end of the bridge, watched him straight... and watched him break character as his visible eye moved from Link to me.

It widened, and I felt my heart jump, even as confusion passed through me. He had seen me, not a few days before, I assumed—I had lost all sense of time while in the Forest Temple, and going straight from there to the Goron City hadn't helped any—and hadn't cared to acknowledge me then, but now...

Whatever character he had been preparing to play, whatever he'd been meant to do, it all fell away as he stared at me. _Only_ at me. I stayed where I was, rooted by indecision and confusion, feeling both happy to see him and frustrated by the lack of knowledge about what was happening. I wasn't close enough to read the minute shifts of his expression, though I could guess it was happening; Sheik always had the better poker face, something that took me so much effort to learn.

And after several long minutes, Link squeezed my hand, jolting me from my paralysis. I jumped a little, and Sheik's gaze flickered between the two of us. The abandoned character was gathered up in bits and pieces; he could not pretend that nothing had happened any more than I could, but he _did_ have dignity to maintain.

“Raiha,” he said quietly.

“Sheik,” I replied, more confused than anything else.

“I'm sorry.”

The apology startled me; I didn't understand what spurred it, or why I could hear a hint of anger under his placid tone. Not knowing what to say, I remained mute, and Sheik finally turned to Link.

“And to you as well, Link,” he sighed a little. “There was a speech to make, but it has been replaced by other thoughts. Raiha, when there is a chance moment, I will explain. For now, I must apologize, as this is not the place to do so. Instead, there is a song you must learn, that will bring you back here, should you require to leave, and travel takes you a great distance. The Bolero of Fire is a song dedicated to the power of the heart...”

Out came the harp. The notes played had a militarial flare to them; I could practically hear a drumbeat, and marching steps as he played, Link slowly following suit on the Ocarina. There was a place for my voice as well, and when I joined in at last, I felt the magic that took hold, swirling around like sparks from a campfire, tossed up into the air.

Sheik nodded slowly, and put his harp away, then simply vanished before Link could take another step towards him. Link looked from me, to where Sheik had been standing, then back. I closed my eyes for a minute, then let out a long breath.

“You okay?” he asked.

“...I don't know,” I said after a moment, my voice soft. “I'm.... confused. There's _something_ going on that I don't understand. Something....”

After a moment I just shook my head a little helplessly, and allowed Link to lead me onto solid ground.

It made no sense at the time; Sheik had barely acknowledged me in the Sacred Forest Meadow. Why he not only acknowledged me now, but looked both pleased to see me, and angry about something—I was mostly guessing, but looking back now, I know—I had no idea. I knew there was some difference about the Sacred Forest Meadow Sheik, and the one I had just seen, but it would take me more time than I had then to understand the biggest difference.

“Let's just go save Darunia,” I said finally.

Link nodded, and after a long minute released my hand. It felt oddly colder without the comfort of his touch.

We crossed the remaining land between us and the Fire Temple's entrance in silence, broken only by the occasional burble of lave as it spat out a flaming projectile that soared over the lip of the volcano. It would, I knew, gain traction in rolling down the mountainside, and I could only hope that there was no one in the way.

The entrance to the temple was almost a mockery of my fear. A single ladder that descended down into shadows and then again into light at the base. Link looked at me, standing there, then went first down the ladder. I bit my lip, feeling dry skin bleed a little as I forced myself, one shaking step at a time, to approach the ladder.

I had to close my eyes to make it, and if Sheik had not been doing the job he told me he'd been assigned so long ago, I would have fallen. As it was, I felt familiar, strong hands catch me, then guide me in the correct direction, getting me onto the ladder.

“We will talk,” he promised quietly. “But now it is more urgent that you reach Darunia before Volvagia does. Be careful.”

I nodded automatically, feeling bubbles of confusion popping even though I bit back the words and the questions; he was right, it was not the place. Link was waiting for me at the base of the ladder, and the smothering, all-encompassing heat of the volcano made speaking an effort.

I made my way carefully down the ladder to Link at the bottom, who caught me and helped me to sit before my trembling legs gave out. He gave me water to sip slowly, and waited until I felt steady enough to continue, surprisingly patient despite what felt like our limited amount of time.

The main room of the temple was what I thought a temple dedicated to fire ought to look like. Stone monoliths and fires burning in their open mouths made... _sense_ to me. The heat in the room was surprisingly less, considering the fact that it was inside of a damn active volcano, but somehow, it was.

Darunia waited at the top of the stairs, pounding fiercely away at a large stone door that had marks from bombs as well as his large fists. He didn't _hear_ us coming, but he must've sensed us somehow, because he turned around, ready to wallop someone, and almost did! He pulled himself up short, for which I was grateful, since I'd taken the lead there for a moment.

“Raiha! And... is that Link?” he asked, peering at him. “It really is! ….You're not supposed to be here.”

“I talked your son into letting us through,” I said dryly, unable to help a small smile. “We're here to help.”

He looked tired. So tired and stressed, and if ever there was a being I could think of as a father, it had been Darunia, with his kindness and stern teachings. I was not about to leave him to beat on this heavy door alone.

“You both helped save us last time,” Darunia said after a long minute, nodding wearily. “It seems imposing to ask for your help without having a real conversation with you, Link, but...”

Link smiled too, and reached out to pat the Goron leader on the shoulder.

“You helped us with the Spiritual Stone,” he said firmly. “And we're Sworn Siblings, right? Better than best friends, and friends always help one another.”

I nodded in agreement as Darunia ran his hands over his face, undoubtedly stifling tears.

“I am glad of your return, my Brother and Sister,” he said finally. “Please, I need your help in rescuing my people, and finding the lost treasure of the Gorons. Possibly in defeating the dragon as well...”

“We'll help,” Link said, beating me to the words by a fraction of a second.

The gusty sigh Darunia released was full of exhausted relief. How long, I wondered, had he been standing there, pounding away at a door that refused to give under the onslaught? Too long was the natural response, and I did what any concerned friend would do.

“You need to rest,” I told him firmly. “And eat something. Your people aren't weak; if this dragon needs someone to _bring_ Gorons to him, then we have time. No one's getting past us.”

Link nodded in agreement, and Darunia spared only a few minutes to look between us before he gave in without an argument. If anything, he seemed glad to be bossed around. It also gave Link and I a chance to eat and take brief naps of our own while Darunia slept like... well, a rock.

Link and I took turns napping, because we had promised that no one would pass us with a Goron for the dragon. I don't really know if that was the reason, or if no one was there and it had been a bluff to get _Darunia—_ which, looking back on it now, I would willingly believe—within reach of Volvagia's claws and teeth, but I silently blessed this fact.

Unfortunately, being awake and on guard meant there was plenty of time for my mind to turn over the quandary that was Sheik. In doing so, I realized at least one thing that I had missed; the Sheik that I mentally identified as _mine—_ inasmuch as he could be claimed—had not made my hand feel like it was going numb.

I pondered the idea for a minute; why would one Sheik cause me pain, and the other Sheik not? What was the deciding difference between the two? I know _now_ that the pain was caused by my body reacting to the Triforce pieces, but at the time, I had no idea that such a thing could happen, let alone happen to _me_.

My questions only led me to more questions, and I could not feel the subtle, pervasive weight of Sheik's gaze. Despite having two very dear friends by my side, I felt very much alone.

Eventually, Link woke up to take a shift, and I tumbled into dreams of fire and weight, hearing the roar of a dragon even as I heard the rumble of the mountain.

I didn't sleep for very long, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Darunia woke not long after I startled out of slumber, and after a token attempt at eating for all of us, we headed away from the indomitable stone door, in hopes of saving what Gorons we could find.

We had saved a handful of them when we ran across an enemy that defied my attempts at shooting, and Link's swipes with his blade. Darunia called it a flare dancer, right before he lifted an arm and brought it down to the ground hard enough to send both Link and myself staggering. The flames died so abruptly that the creature within the magic fire fell gracelessly to the floor and wobbled back and forth on its back for several moments. Darunia's next punch launched the thing practically through the wall, from which it fell and seemed to shatter like clay pottery. I whistled, impressed by how easy—not to mention decisive—that had been.

Darunia, not immune to flattery despite the tense situation, flexed slightly. I couldn't help laughing, nor was I alone; Link snickered a bit himself, and when I looked, it was clear that he was glad of the help as well. Nor was that the only moment Darunia was of great help; the temple weaved and wended its way upwards, with great gaps in the floor that gave me no peace of mind in the slightest. Instead of trying to coax, or lead me across, Darunia simply hefted me up onto his back and carried me across.

He was comfortable, for a being that was more rock than flesh. And he was kind. I probably wouldn't have managed a third of the temple as easily or with such grace without his help.

Finding the Megaton Hammer was more luck than skill; the room it was locked away in was occupied by flare dancers. Dancers, _plural_. A handful came out at once, leaping around us and cordoning us off from one another, in rings of fire. My fire, Din's Fire, did no damage, but then, I hadn't really thought it would. I could, with some effort and much gratitude for Goron smithing, cut _through_ the flames that the dancer threw at me, but that was not getting me freed.

Darunia, across the room, pounded the ground once. Twice.

The third time I heard Link yelp and risked looking his way. What little I could see through the wavering flames was not comforting; he had fallen, and the flare dancer seemed to be advancing on him. I had a Deku nut in hand before I could even think, wanting to distract the flare dancer before it could hurt him.

In the end, my protectiveness was unnecessary. Link rolled back to his feet even as I tried to get through the barrier of flame, a large, heavy-looking hammer held between both hands. As Darunia pounded the floor again—he clearly had more flare dancers than either of us—Link swung the hammer down hard enough to crack the floor himself, knocking the flare dancer out of its flames.

That was all I was able to watch, as my own opponent struck me in the side. I didn't go flying, but I did go rolling, nursing a gash in my tunic and side both, which bled freely. I swore, quite a lot, and clamped one arm down to try and stymie the flow of blood. I had, in truth, no means of defeating the flare dancers; Link held a bomb bag and the hookshot both, as I rarely made use of either, and while I could—and did—parry the blows of the flare dancers, all I could do was buy myself some time.

In this case, I managed to buy just enough for Darunia and Link to work in concert and prevent further injury. The Megaton hammer rattled the round, making me stumble and swear as I slipped and hit the stone. On my injured side, even. Darunia's fist went through the air that my body had just occupied, and the flare dancer made friends with the wall, then shattered as the others had. Link did _not_ drop the hammer when he ran to my side, but it was a near thing. He fumbled around in the pouch I knew held the two medallions that we—he, really—had collected, and brought out one that seemed to be carved of sunlight itself, pressing it into my hand urgently.

I took it, if only to appease him, knowing with unfeigned reluctance that I was going to have to get stitches for my side and the tunic both, then stared in shock as the injury began to pull itself back together. Link and Darunia both sighed in overt relief.

“We should rest here,” the large Goron said firmly. “Healing or not, you have lost.... quite a bit of blood, my Sister.”

I looked, and grimaced; he was correct. I could see splatters of blood—mine—and a few crimson footprints that told me I had bled more than I'd thought smeared across the stone floor. Whatever it seemed the Light Medallion _could_ do—and I had clearly underestimated the ability it _did_ have—replacing lost blood was beyond it.

Not really wanting to _wear_ my own blood—and glad that I had a number of spare clothes at my disposal—I stripped out of what I was wearing. Link almost immediately turned away, embarrassed, but Darunia sat next to me, watching as the power of the Light Medallion healed my injured side with no sign of a scar. I was, I admit, impressed. I was also quick to sew up the rent in my tunic and pull it back on.

“Link, what'd you _do?_ ” I finally asked, once I had managed to wipe the worst of the blood off my skin and had pants on again; it was the lack of pants that seemed to embarrass him the most. “What _is_ that?”

He looked down at the hammer, held much more loosely now with its head on the ground, and shrugged a bit uncertainly.

“It's the Megaton hammer,” Darunia said, holding out one large palm.

Link relinquished the hammer without protest, and sat on my other side, trading the Light Medallion for the Forest Medallion so that we could eat. In Darunia's hand, the hammer seemed small, which took me a bit of puzzling to understand. In truth, it wasn't so much that the hammer was sized oddly—though it certainly seemed it—as it was that Darunia was actually _bigger_ than the average Goron. What took Link two hands and no small effort to use accurately was easy for Darunia.

“The legendary weapon of my people,” he said at long last, letting the hammer come to rest on the floor again with care. “You used it well, my Brother.”

Link ruefully rubbed at his shoulders.

“It's really heavy,” he said. “I thought it was gonna pull me over.”

Darunia laughed a little.

“It was made for a Goron hand, but you are not weak, Brother. You used it quite well.”

“I'll say,” I nodded fervently. “The only way that could have ended for me without the help is _bad_.”

“Perhaps you should borrow the bombs, Sister,” Darunia suggested. “There are still a few rooms to search for my people, and it would not do to have you trapped again.”

Link nodded, and passed over the bomb bag before I had a chance to protest. Since it _did_ seem like a good idea, I accepted the bomb bag and tied it to my belt.

We rested there for a while longer before Darunia felt it was wise to allow me to test my legs. I wobbled, a little, but didn't fall over, so we continued in. Eventually, the temple wound its way back to the entrance, and Link—who had been carrying the hammer at Darunia's insistence—handed it to him as we confronted the previously immobile door.

Darunia lifted the hammer in his hands, and hit the stone. Once, twice, three times. At four it began showing great cracks in the stone. At five, chunks fell off, crashing to the left and right of the hammer-wielding Goron. At the sixth hit, the door essentially gave up and crumbled into pieces, releasing a wave of heat, and the sound of a dragon's roar.

Darunia roared back, charging in with the hammer held high, leaving us to scramble after into the large bubble cavern that was half-filled with rushing lava. It contained—inasmuch as something like Volvagia _can_ be contained—one dragon, and a large stone platform on which the dragon rested. And it _was_ resting, up until we stepped in. When it rose into the air, I couldn't help but feel a semblance of awe.

Volvagia was never considered a 'good' dragon, if such a thing even existed. It was long and serpentine, its body rippling with the reddish orange of the lava that surrounded its resting place. It had no visible wings, and as I watched, I realized it couldn't actually _fly_ either; it was riding the updrafts of hot air and gliding more than anything else.

It could, however—and did—breathe fire. Darunia stood solidly before us, blocking the flames with the solid stone of his back.

“My Siblings,” he said as the flames roared around us, “we must lure that fiend within reach of the hammer. It has been destroyed by it once before, so it will no doubt be wary. But we _must_ win, else the mountain will never settle. We Gorons could handle that, but the people of Kakariko should not suffer so.”

I nodded, pleased by his concern for the village at the foot of the mountain. Harrying the dragon seemed like a good idea, really; it had tried to eat my family, and I wanted a little payback. My only regret was that there was a distinct lack of moisture to the air; had there been enough, I could have used one of the spells from Impa's book to make ice.

Link looked uncertain, but as the flame ceased, the dragon swooped low as though it would try and take a chunk out of Darunia; the Master Sword cleared the sheathe in a heartbeat even as Darunia turned and swung with the hammer. Link once more moved to the left as I jumped right—amusing to recall how often we led with our dominant hands—and as Darunia swung, we both ducked and rolled, getting out of range of the hammer and the claws the dragon swiped at us with.

Volvagia swung upwards to avoid the hammer, arcing in my direction. Ready or not, I pulled out a weapon that _might_ have a chance of causing damage, and aimed for the skull. It was the only part of the dragon that seemed solid enough for an arrow to impact.

My arrow hit all right, but it only bounced, falling away into the lava it soared over. Darunia seemed planted in place, between the dragon and the doorway; I could hardly blame him, considering what could happen if the dragon escaped from the mountain. The blight Ganon had spread would be nothing in comparison to the fiery death that would follow Volvagia.

As it swung low for another pass, Link took a swipe at it and was forced to jump back as quite literal lava splattered from the injury the Master Sword caused. The dragon roared it's fury and pain, and the tail came about, smacking Link across the chest. The Goron tunic prevented what could have been a serious—not to mention severe—burn, but he still tumbled ass over teakettle towards the edge.

I didn't even know I could move so fast, but I darted his way, grabbing for his right wrist before he could fly fully off the edge. I caught him and braced hard, pulling backwards with everything I had, yanking him back onto solid ground.

He landed, very briefly, on me. But there wasn't time to be embarrassed, I simply pushed him off to the side and rolled to my feet, and he followed suit. If he was shaking, it was hard to tell; we were both dealing with adrenaline from the fight. This time, we didn't split up. With whoops that admittedly more suited children at play, we ran straight at the dragon, directly challenging it, and ducking the fire that was the response.

In lieu of anything better, I threw a Deku nut into Volvagia's face, temporarily blinding it. Link laughed a little—a wild sound that Darunia, still planted near the entrance, echoed—and imitated me. I don't think I really _had_ a plan beyond making the dragon so annoyed that it would chase us and not see Darunia until it was too late...

That was, in the end, precisely what happened. We nicked at the dragon, using anything that came to hand that we could throw—mostly stone, from the few times it went up to the top of the cavern and worried at the ceiling, sending rocks crashing down on us—until it was more or less literally seeing red. We did not—could not—stand in the flames that came our way, but we didn't have to. We pelted back in the direction of Darunia as Volvagia did a gliding charge after us.

Halfway there, Darunia charged himself, and we hastily dodged to either side.

I slipped. Again, strong, familiar hands caught me, and I looked up in time to catch just a glimpse of Sheik before he shoved me back onto the path and vanished again. But it was heartening to know that he was once more looking out for me, even as I almost fell flat on my face. Not my most _graceful_ landing, to be certain.

As I managed to keep my feet and turned to watch, Volvagia almost, _almost,_ managed to jink out of Darunia's path. But almost was not good enough, and the hammer came down with a rumbling cracking _crash_ that made me glad I was standing near the entrance, where the ground was more solidly built.

The dragon's head met the floor and, like the flare dancers, cracked to pieces as though it was nothing more than clay. It landed heavily on the ground, still dripping lava from where Link had wounded it, and then more or less exploded with red light. Darunia released the hammer to cover his eyes, and after a minute I had to cover mine, it was so blinding.

A wave of cool air practically slapped me in the face, and I lowered my hand to see that we were, to a being, within the Chamber of Sages. And Darunia, his face alight with awe and pleasure, was standing directly on the Fire Pedestal.

“I certainly did not expect this,” he said with a chuckle. “I, the wild Darunia, the Sage of Fire? Destiny is clearly a strange and odd thing, is it not?”

“...you could say that,” I said after a minute, not sure whether to be pleased or worried.

“Thank you, my Siblings,” he said firmly. “With the defeat of Vovalgia, the mountain should return to normal, and my people will once more be safe, as will the Kakariko folk. You should tell my son that he will have to be the Big Brother now; tell him also that I said he will do well.”

Darunia pondered for a minute, hand on the haft of the hammer.

“Brother, take this,” he said, hefting it in Link's direction. Link hesitated, then carefully grabbed the haft in both hands. “If you can, return it to my people when you no longer need it, so that we may mount it in a place of proper observation. And for you, Sister,” he smiled at me, and I felt my heart ache at the thought of not seeing him again, “take the Medallion. It will give you light, heat, and warmth when you ask, and you are always welcome to call upon me through it.”

He flicked his hand lightly, and red light flare, as it had done seven years ago. A medallion flipped through the air towards me, and I caught it, feeling a gentle warmth wrap around me as I did so. I smiled sadly at him, and red light wrapped around us, then neatly and gently, deposited us back in Goron City.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes, I've started breaking with canon here. It always bothered me that a) the Sages Medallions didn't do a damn thing and b) the sages themselves didn't really do anything except APPEAR at the end. 
> 
> Now the medallions do things, and Darunia isn't the only Sage that will be taking an active role in fixing that which is broken.


	11. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilt, and Ruto, and how much of a pain the Water Temple can be to the uninitiated.

Ten

 

The City was once more filled with Gorons, many of whom were happily celebrating their freedom, and the restoration of normalcy to the volcano. Mostly by eating very large rocks that they called Rock Sirloin, racing around the middle track, and wrestling with one another. It took us some time to find Link the Goron, but when we did, he greeted us with unbridled enthusiasm.

“Brothers! Everyone has returned, goro!” he exclaimed, hugging first me, then Link, with great care. “Where's Dad?”

“He's got to stay in the Chamber of Sages for a bit, and then he's going to be in charge of the Fire Temple,” Link said after a moment of hesitance. “At least, that's how Rauru explained it to me...”

“He said that you were to be the Big Brother now,” I said, though I gave my Link a curious glance; this was news to me, though admittedly I hadn't wondered about it before. “And he also said that you would do very well at it.”

Link the Goron's expression was one I knew well; he didn't know whether to be happy, sad, or something else entirely. After a moment, he settled on somewhere in the middle, sad, but also proud.

“If Dad thinks I'm ready, then.. then I'll do my best, goro! Where are you going now, Brothers?”

Link looked directly at me, and I sighed. I only really knew of two other Temples, and to be fair, I did _not_ want to entertain the idea of crossing the desert. Hells, getting out _to_ the desert would be intensely difficult on its own, crossing it? Not a pleasing or comforting thought. But at the same time, going to Zora's Domain...

When I didn't immediately answer, Link the Hylian shrugged a little.

“A place to take a break?” he offered after a minute. “It's been a trying couple of days...”

Link the Goron nodded.

“The mountain has stopped rolling stones down the paths, so soon my Brothers will be able to open the path down to Kakariko,” he said cheerfully. “It will be good to learn how they are doing!”

His cheer made me smile, and for a short time we allowed ourselves to get caught up in the revelry. Link the Hylian threw me concerned looks from time to time, but I did my best to ignore them. Here, with happy Gorons, was not the place to try and explain what had happened to Zora's Domain.

Of course, celebrating Gorons can go for _hours_. Sometimes days. Us, though? We snuck out of there after only a handful, worn out from the enthusiastic hugs and the constant reminders that the Gorons needed to treat us _gently_.

We headed out of the City, though it was not in the direction of Kakariko. It was, in fact, into the forest, and I'll admit this much freely; I have never been so glad to be hemmed in by trees. Judging by the light, the sun was trending in a decidedly _downwards_ direction, and I was more than willing to let it.

Not, mind you, like I could have stopped it, but considering that we had freed two Temples from their curses in under a week—give or take a handful of days—a break was definitely warranted. I found the nearest comfortable patch of grass, and flopped down onto it, nursing my bruises. Link sat down next to me with a faint groan, leaning back against a tree.

“Gorons,” he complained mildly, “don't really know the meaning of the word _gentle_ , do they?”

I couldn't help but snicker.

“Not in particular. Gentle for them is different than gentle for us. _We_ are squishy. They definitely aren't.”  
He just groaned a little again, and flopped sideways, silence reigning for a few minutes. Then...

“So, where _are_ we going next?” he asked.

I sighed again, and let my eyes close; it was easier to say without looking at him.

“There's two temples that I know of specifically,” I said quietly. “One is... it's in the desert. I don't think we're ready for the desert, but if you want to, I can... well... we can...”

I struggled to find the right words, the ones that wouldn't brand me as the coward I was. Part of me still wanted to go back, but that was the _heart_ of where Ganondorf's forces lay. No doubt all the Gerudo there reported to him in some fashion, and I still remained fearful of what would happen if he knew my whereabouts.

“What's the other one?” he asked, sparing me from my lack of explanation.

“It's... it's in Lake Hylia, but I think we have to go to Zora's Domain first,” I exhaled slowly, then rolled onto my side, facing him and half-opening my eyes. “It's... Look, Ruto said it wasn't my fault, and I kind of believe her, but it almost killed both of us, and it _feels_ like my fault because... because I was there, a-and...”

He reached out and just lightly brushed some of hair out of my face as I ran out of words.

“If Ruto doesn't think it's your fault, then it's not your fault,” he said, voice firm. “What happened?”

“...Zora's Domain is... it's frozen over,” I said, pain in my voice, squeezing my heart. “Ruto's at the Water Temple, and has been for a few years now, so maybe it's not, but I've been too scared to go and look.”

“So we'll go together,” Link smiled at me reassuringly. “And if it's not, we'll find some way of fixing it.”

I nodded after a long minute.

I did not, at the time, feel like I was a strong person. Even though I know now that things would have progressed as they did with or without my personal involvement, at the time.... even now, it still feels as though I am somehow to blame. I do wonder what might have happened if I had gone to Lon-Lon Ranch first; could I have remained there unmolested? Would those things have been rumors that I heard about later, not knowing until I was with Link what precisely had happened?

I don't regret hiding away with my friends; like Link, like Sheik, the Zora and the Goron saved my life and became family in a way that I have not felt since. But I do regret the fact that they were targeted, were harmed, and I could do nothing.

But I digress.

We slept in the Lost Woods, taking peace in the faint melody we could hear echoing through the greenery as though Saria was once more on her tree stump in the Sacred Forest Meadow. Nothing tried to eat us, the forest itself didn't attempt to swallow us, and we woke in the morning to birdsong and a sky going pale blue as the sun rose. We ate—we couldn't do anything else—and went in search of the pool that connected the forest to the edge of Zora's Domain.

Before we jumped in, I traded the red tunic for the blue, and Link looked at it curiously.

“....we'll have to find some way of getting you one of these,” I said after a moment. “Though I'm not sure how. It's a Zora Tunic. With this, I can breathe underwater.”

“That... is so _cool!_ ”

I couldn't help but laugh; he was very good at surprising me just when I needed it most. I jumped in and swam down to the tunnel that was also a portal, waiting for him to follow, which he did after a minute. He was holding his breath, and we swam through quickly. I felt the faint buzz of magic that flickered across my skin, a similar tingle that usually happened in the tunnel from the Goron City to the Lost Woods, and then there was daylight above us again and the water was _freezing_.

The faint hopes I'd had that Ruto had managed to free her Temple of its curse died as we popped to the surface and hauled ourselves out into the icy air. Snow was falling in small flakes, something I only knew about because Sheik had once described it to me; mostly by comparing it to sand, but colder. Snow is not, after all, native to Hyrule. Winters are cold, yes, but they are rainy, not snowy, and for the most part, the temperatures don't actually change too much.

I don't think Link really realized the truth behind the words 'Zora's Domain is frozen' until he stepped beyond the waterfall, into the icy world itself. We were both dripping and shivering, but he stopped still and stared around in horror.

“....yeah,” I said softly. “It's been like this for three years, give or take a few months. Ganon put a curse of some kind on the Water Temple in Lake Hylia, and this was the result.”

I shivered again, more from fear than from cold, recalling how _quickly_ the ice had formed, and how close it had come to killing me. If not for Sheik... if not for Sheik, Ruto would be just as frozen, and I no doubt, would have died. Link did what was starting to become natural, and grabbed my hand, holding it comfortingly.

I let him for a few minutes, then pulled out the Fire Medallion—he had insisted that, since it was given to me, I should carry it—and let the warmth of it evaporate the water and coil around me like a blanket. After a moment I passed it to Link, who breathed a faint sigh of relief as the heat dried him off too.

I took the curved path down, looking for the Zora shop, which was blocked off by strange red ice. Din's Fire did nothing to melt it, and not even the Megaton hammer seemed to crack it. Baffled—and no small amount annoyed—I led the way up to the Zora throne room, then stopped in my tracks and swore. King Zora was _also_ enveloped in the red ice... I didn't know if that meant he was alive or dead, and after punching the ice a few times to vent my temper, Link caught me by the arm and pulled me away, out into the head of the fountain where the water was still flowing, if _very_ icy.

Jabu-Jabu, as I said, had not survived out clumsy and rather... haphazard attempts at freeing him from his curse. So there was no sign of the whale. Instead, large ice floes dotted the rather massive lake, bobbing quietly in the water.

In my youth I had, I thought, explored every inch of Zora's domain, but to be honest, I had only explored every inch that I could _reach,_ and I hadn't reached my full height while I was living with the Zora. (To be fair, I didn't reach my full height until I lived on Lon-Lon Ranch for a year.) With the aid of the ice floes, Link and I reached a cavern that had been previously unexplored.

It was _cold_ in there. I took out the Fire Medallion on principle, and didn't care much that it meant my feet were sinking into the piles of snow. It was _cold_ , and I did not handle it very well at all. I silently blessed the fact that the Medallion bestowed warmth, sharing it in spurts with Link as we cautiously explored the frozen world that was so at odds with how things _should_ be in Hyrule.

There weren't too many caverns to explore, though they were peppered with enemies. Freezards, mostly, but there was the occasional keese that carried ice on its wings that was just nasty. We found blue fire that gave off light, but no heat—if anything it seemed to radiate the cold and make it worse—and managed to put it in a bottle, of all things. In several, rather, as we had no way of knowing how much we would need, and the idea of backtracking was not palatable.

We used one on a door that led to a room that would have been pitch black if not for one thing. Ice-like protrusions glowing a soft, cool blue cast light onto the white, white snow. More ice crystals jutted up from the ground, and actual ice itself hung in jagged lines from the ceiling.

It...

For a moment, I forgot how cold it was. And it _was_ cold, because I didn't want to abuse the gift of warmth Darunia's medallion granted, even as I felt the cold biting deep into my bones. (I did think for the short time we were there, that I would never be warm again. Dramatic, and untrue, but still.) But it was like the night sky writ small, and there was such _beauty_ in it, that I thought I might never want to leave.

I rescinded this thought quickly as my breath misted out into the air; I did _not_ like the cold.

At the far end, before a pool of water, was a small chest. Link approached it carefully, and tried to shove it open, but the damp and the cold had frozen the hinges shut. He started to try and slide the blade of the Master Sword between the edges in an attempt to pry up the lid when the white wolfos jumped him.

I made a very undignified sound as Link went over backwards, the flat of the blade between himself and the wolfos. Had it not been a very dangerous wolfos, I might even have laughed. As it was, I full on body-checked the creature, throwing knife in hand, to get it off of him, and heard a sharp intake of breath that did _not_ belong to Link.

Sheik, when I pulled away from the now dead wolfos, looked a bit like he wanted to strangle me himself for the reckless reflex. Despite how serious the moment was, and how confused I still remained about the inconsistency of his appearance, I had to smile. We had not yet had that talk that he'd said we would, but I saw the resignation in his eyes, and watched the tension leak out of his shoulders. Instead, he offered Link a hand up as I cleaned the throwing knife I had used in the snow.

Once Link was on his own two feet, brushing the snow from his body, Sheik retreated back a few steps, resuming a formal guise that I had seen Zelda-as-Sheik adopt in the Sacred Forest Meadow.

“We meet again,” he said quietly. “If your goal was to meet with the Zora, I'm afraid your time was wasted. Save for three, the Zora are sealed away under a thick sheet of ice, and of those three, two are sealed beyond the strange red ice that no spell has broken.”

Link nodded a little; we most certainly _had_ noticed that.

“As you have no doubt been informed, Princess Ruto yet remains free, and went ahead many years ago to try and dispel the curse that was placed on the Water Temple,” he continued, voice and expression grave. “While the curse yet remains, Zora's Domain will continued to be an icy wasteland.”

“We're going to change that,” Link said firmly as guilt stabbed me, robbing me of my voice. “We're going to return Zora's Domain to what it used to be!”

Sheik paused, and then a modicum of warmth entered into face and voice both.

“The allow me to teach you the song that will take you to the temple. It will save weeks of travel that you cannot afford.”

Link nodded, and brought out the Ocarina, though Sheik didn't yet have out his harp. I swallowed, and lifted my chin slightly, waiting as well.

“Time passes, people move,” Sheik said quietly. “Like a river's flow, it never ends. A childish mind will turn to noble ambition. Young love will become deep affection,” and he glanced at me, his visible eye softening slightly. I couldn't help myself, and gave a tiny smile in reply. “The clear water's surface reflect growth. Now hear the Serenade of Water, to reflect upon yourself.”

It was a soft song, with only a handful of notes. It bespoke of peace and solitude; a quiet certainty that reminded me of the few times I had found comfort in the steady, delicate drumming of the rain whenever it happened. Reminding me that to have water was to have _life_ , even if I was not necessarily fond of the rain itself.

I almost didn't want that song to end, but of course it did, once Link had mastered the notes. Sheik nodded to him, and put the harp away once more. He looked from Link, the me, then sighed.

“I'll see you again. I promise,” he said quietly.

And then without flare of light, or trick smoke, he was gone.

My heart sank to somewhere around my booted toes, even as I melted the ice from around the hinges of the chest Link had failed to open. I wanted, badly, to have him explain just what was going on. Why he was as he had been, after being so different.

Within the chest was an unexpected thing. Two pairs of boots that had iron bolted to the soles. They most certainly weren't _light_ , and it didn't take much effort to realize that they would be good for holding down bodies that tended to float underwater, a fact that amused me even as I yanked them on and sank into the ice water at the back of the cavern. Link followed suit, but it was clear he was holding his breath, so we ran for the far end of the water as quickly as possible; I had no desire to drown my friend, even as I reveled in the peace that being underwater brought me.

We had discovered mostly by chance that the blue fire would melt the red ice, and Link put that observation to good use, freeing King Zora from his icy imprisonment.

“Ho!” The King gasped once the ice had fully melted. “I live again! And you... you are the ones who saved me?”

I just pointed at Link, who blushed a little.

“You landwalkers do not do well in underwater situations,” King Zora said gravely looking at Link, who was still garbed in the red Fire Tunic. “As a reward, please, take this.”

He was surprisingly dextrous for a fish, and tossed Link the deep blue tunic that would allow him to breathe underwater.

“Now. Where is my daughter?”

This question was directed at me, and I winced a little.

“Water Temple?” I offered.

To my relief, King Zora nodded contemplatively.

“You are going to help?”

“Yessir.”

“Then do so quickly; I have no desire to be a frozen fish again.”

I couldn't help giggling.

“Yessir.”

We escaped to frozen domain after releasing the imprisoned Zora shop owner—who complained about the cold and also asked us to hurry and return the place to normal—going out into the chilly air that was a proponent of the ice water flowing down the front of the cliff face.

“Should we use the song like Sheik suggested?” Link asked, raising his voice to be heard over the rushing water.

“It's either that or spend almost a month crossing the plains,” I replied. “He is right; we don't really have the time to waste.”

I was starting to wonder, though; thus far, other than cursing the Temples, demanding tribute, and spreading that slow, creeping blight, Ganondorf had actually _not_ done any active pursuit either of myself, or anyone else who could be considered a threat. Yes, he had moved to take the Zora and the Goron out of the resistance effort, but even those were starting to feel more like bait than actual threats. The ice clearly hadn't killed King Zora any more than the Gorons had actually been eaten by the dragon.

Something did not sit right with me, but I wasn't sure I wanted to dig too fully into that suspicion. I will admit here, that is the one time I have actually seen Ganondorf be _sneaky_. He has lost his taste for stealth, I think, with the continued connection to the Triforce of Power...

Anyways.

It was our first experience with actually using one of the teleportation songs we'd been granted; we had not needed to leave either the Meadow or the Crater, and—fortunately enough—also had no reason to return to them. To call it disconcerting would have been an understatement.

Perhaps naturally, the moment we arrived at the lake, it was raining. The rain, however, did little to hide the fact that the lake itself, save for a small space before the entrance to the Temple, was dry. We were both disoriented enough from the travel to need to sit for a few moments, and I stared out at the lake, feeling numb. The idea that this large, pristine, _beautiful_ lake was empty.

It broke my heart. I was glad of the rain then; it hid the fact that I had tears running down my face.

Link, ever perceptive, put an arm around my shoulders. For a minute I allowed myself the grief, and accepted the comfort he was offering. His belief in me, his faith that this was _not my fault_ , helped to bolster my own waning strength. It was one thing to be told it was bad, it was another thing entirely to _see_ it, and feel it, and know that alone, it couldn't be fixed.

In truth, it's amazing that Link, who had slept for seven years, was as mature as he was. Sure he over-extended sometimes, but he worried more about his skill than he bragged, and he comforted me, giving me strength instead of ridiculing me for how I felt. He was driven far more than I was to fix things, but he didn't hesitate to stop and give me help when I faltered.

In that moment, I realized then that I was falling in love with him as much as I had fallen in love with Sheik. It wasn't unusual to fall in love with more than one person, not for my people, but it _was_ unusual for Gerudo to love outside their—our—race. At least, to the degree I knew I was heading in. Males were, to the Gerudo, a way of making children, but they weren't to be _loved_. Love was for the children, for the tribe. A Gerudo in love with her daughter's father... usually didn't end well. Usually.

I digress. Again.

After a few minutes I picked myself up, wiping rainwater and tears from my face. Link watched me for a moment—I felt his gaze more than saw it—then briefly turned away to trade Goron red for Zora blue. The blue looked just as good as the red had, I admit; his eyes certainly became more noticeable. The red looked good in a different way...

He moved close to the edge of the small island, glancing down at the pool of water below, then at me.

“Just close my eyes and jump,” I said grimly. “Believe me, I know.”

He held my hand as we jumped, which kept me from stopping short at the edge; it was not a _graceful_ jump because I did attempt that very thing, and we tumbled headlong into the water that—to our luck—didn't break anything.

Also, difficult takes on a new meaning when one is trying to put on iron boots while underwater. The weight was not as much as it was on dry land—water's buoyant properties are quite handy at times, I will admit—but the boots still dragged a body down by the hands until the boots themselves rested on the lake bottom, at which point they could be pulled on and strapped into. And yes, it required straps.

Getting in for us was not as straightforward as it is for the Zora, who, at the time, could quite literally _become_ the water they lived in. (Such a thing has since vanished; I believe the trait was wholly magical in nature, and with a sundered Triforce, the gift no longer exists.) The gate that barred our entrance was held in place by a switch that, no matter how I braced and pulled, refused to come out of the gate.

Underwater, swords are not necessarily practical. They can be _used_ , yes, but without the grounding factor of the iron boots, it's easy to get turned about by your own movements, not to mention the resistance of the water, and the enemy. A bow is entirely pointless, and my throwing knives are not much better. They can be used as _knives_ but close-contact fighting underwater is generally not a good idea. Too many things have poison spines, or can clamp shut faster than an arm can move through water.

The hookshot was what finally let us through, and it was a last ditch attempt at getting the gate lock undone. The sharp point at the end dug in, and Link's stubborn yank back as he triggered the retraction of the chain finally dislodged it, allowing the gate to trend slowly upwards. He grinned in triumph as I swam back down to collect the boots I had abandoned—I didn't wear them all that much in the Temple itself, honestly, since I was, again, of little use—and we went in.

The Zora have one thing about them that does tend to drive me rather up the wall at times; they are intensely fond of things like mazes, puzzles, and logical problems. Critical thinking is _very_ high on their list of favorite pastimes. Their temple is built with that logic in mind, and can accurately be called something of a pain in the ass. Even by other Zora.

In this case, by Ruto, who we found swimming in frustrated circles around the large pillar at the middle of the temple, wide enough to contain rooms and quite plainly part of the structure that kept the hollow interior from collapsing.

Zora communicate underwater through a type of telepathy, one that wearers of Zora tunics can also participate in. In my case, once I hit the water, words weren't needed; Ruto swam into me fast enough to bowl me head over heels, hugging me tightly. I hugged back, glad that she was alive, glad that—despite the years, despite time—she was still clearly herself.

She was, in many ways, my sister as much as my friend.

_You came at last! I was starting to think I'd be here by myself until I died from boredom!_

I couldn't help laughing, the sound escaping as bubbles.

 _I had no idea you needed the help_ , I admitted. _Plus, I wouldn't have been able to get in without help. I'm not a Zora, you know._

_Oh fine, get technical about it._

I grinned at her ire that wasn't really ire, and hugged her again. When we separated, she finally took notice of Link, and she stared as he did. It was, in all honesty, rather amusing.

 _Link?_ She turned to me, and pointed. _That's Link isn't it?!_

I grinned a little, nodding. Ruto's put-out expression was really entertaining, giving me a sense of the young woman she'd become in the time since I'd last seen her. She was still herself, still so _clearly_ the occasionally snobby princess, but she had matured well.

 _We are going to save Zora's Domain and its people,_ she said after a long minute, very firmly. _And then we are going to have a very long talk about certain things._

He looked so confused that I snickered at _his_ expense this time.

 _She means the Zora's Sapphire,_ I told him, following Ruto as she headed for one of the doorways down at the bottom of the temple. _Technically, you're supposed to marry her._

He made a strangled sound that didn't translate too well, but got his shock across. Navi's chiming laugh was clear enough, housed safely as she was beneath his hat, and I just grinned at him, even as the thought of him not being with me pinched at my heart. Even then, however, I knew that there were some things that were not mine to hold, no matter my own feelings on the subject.

Even with Ruto as a guide, we backtracked many times to find some switch, some key that we missed. When the water was lowered and she could vocalize, she did so at length, soundly cursing the original creators of the temple, using many words that she had picked up from me. Me laughing about it clearly encouraged her. Link, poor, stunned dear that he was, just remained mostly silent as the temple itself gave us the exhausting runaround.

The most notable event that took place was the one that split us up. It happened more or less by accident; I don't know who hit the trigger that opened up the floor, but we all fell. I could hear, vaguely, Ruto and Link yelling—in Ruto's case I'm quite sure she swore, and I admit, teaching a princess to swear still makes me laugh a little—as I hit a slide, and water shoved me down to a room that was wrapped in magic.

It made me think of the Lake outside, just... writ small. The water I landed in was shallow, and if not for the fact that the floor was plainly solid stone, I would have thought myself out of doors. The 'sky' was a misty blue-lavender that spoke of early dawn, and fog drifted harmlessly over the top of the water. At the opposite end of the room where I had been dropped, I could see a door. It looked to be barred, but I picked myself up and went to examine it anyways.

I knew I was being watched the moment I crossed the midpoint of the room; though I will freely admit that I was not always the _most_ observant of people, it's hard to _miss_ your reflection vanishing from view. I delayed turning around, but I could only stare at a locked door for so long before giving into the inevitable.

I turned, and saw myself. She was made of shadow, or something like, given solid form. The only hint of color that was not black or gray were the eyes that burned with a malicious red light. I tensed, and so did she. I moved left, and she moved with me. I drew a dagger, and she mimicked the movement in eerie silence.

The nature of the test itself was clear; to move on, I had to fight against this doppelganger. The actual _surmounting_ of it... hurt. She mimicked my movements as though I was standing before a mirror, my long knives bouncing off hers in a clash of sound that echoed painfully across the water. It wasn't a training session, it wasn't a dance, it _was_ an exercise in keeping my temper.

In truth, I didn't keep it so well, but when I finally did snarl from frustration, I pulled out a trick that she could _not._ Din's Fire, coalesced into a ball, flew at the shadow and stuck her in the chest, knocking her back off her feet. The pained grunt was the first sound she'd uttered during the whole of the fight, and I admit, it startled me. Not enough to lose my focus, but as she splashed down, she seemed to melt into the floor.

When she came back up, she was no longer mirroring my movements. Instead, she attacked furiously, displaying skills that I had never had, and forcing me to block and dodge on instinct alone. In what little breathing space I could get as I more or less forced her to chase me around the room, I built up another fireball. It was not _bigger_ than the last—they can only get so big before becoming rather ludicrous in appearance—but I grabbed for the Fire Medallion as I turned, taking a hit so that I could slam the fire, and my fist, into her chest.

She _screamed_ as the fire took hold, flying backwards from the hit. She vanished into the floor again, the scream lingering even as the spell snapped. The blade she'd stabbed into me—I suspected with the intent of ripping it out of my side in a move that _probably_ could have killed me—evaporated into mist. The wound itself, unfortunately, was real, and it was deep. Blood did not _gush_ , but it didn't trickle either, and my tunic was quickly, overtly, stained crimson.

I put the Fire Medallion away, and did my best to clamp my hand to my injured side, staunching the flow of blood as best I could without tearing up part of the tunic for makeshift bandages.

In truth, I had taken a number of injuries; the stab wound was just the worst of them. Bruises and other shallower cuts stung as I limped my way over to the now-unlocked door and pushed it open. Ruto's squawk of alarm and rush to my side helped a little when it came to reassurances.

“What _happened_?!” she demanded, helping me to sit. “Did you and Link..?”

I shook my head a little.

“Your temple,” I said tiredly, “has a terrible sense of humor.”

“Don't I know it,” she huffed a little, carefully washing some of the less threatening scratches. “But this seems a bit excessive...”

“I'm... willing to bet this wasn't actually... the temple's fault,” I conceded after a minute in which she did her best to tend to me. “More like this is another part of the curse that... that jerkass laid.”

Ruto only looked partially convinced. I half-shrugged lightly, grimacing.

“Fighting a shadow-self really doesn't seem very.. Zora.”

To that the princess only sighed.

“Well, you did it, but...”

“Yeah, I came out pretty banged up. Link'd better hurry his ass; he's the one with the Light Medallion.”

She cocked her head curiously.

“The Light Medallion heals injuries up,” I informed her, wincing as I shifted a bit and looked down at the slowly spreading crimson. “I'm going to need it...”

She looked down too, and her expression went from slightly mulish to worried.

“You'll.... be all right... won't you?”

I managed a weak, somewhat pained smile.

“If I get the Medallion, yeah.”

Ruto got to her feet, and began to pace, occasionally tossing impatient and worried glances at the room's sole doorway. I could hardly blame her; had I been in a position where moving around wouldn't do me further harm, I would have done the same.

It felt like forever—it was only a handful of minutes—before Link staggered through. He looked far worse than I did, and I winced in sympathy even as Ruto jumped forward to catch him before he could collapse face first to the hard stone. She laid him out, and gave me a rather panicked look; unconscious Hylians were well outside her typical experience.

They were outside of _mine_ too, but I knew how to help in this case. I pulled the pouch that contained the medallions off his belt, and just dumped them carelessly onto the floor. They glimmered in the faint glow from the luminescent moss, and I grabbed the Light Medallion. I could feel the immediate shift in my body as the ancient magic began working, that abruptly cut off as I set it onto Link's forehead.

The swelling black eye immediately started fading, as did the one visible knot just under his hairline. Navi hovered over the medallion worriedly.

“He couldn't figure out how to beat it,” the fairy said, her tone miserable. “I tried and tried to find a weak point, but all I kept getting was something that made no _sense_ , and he kept taking hits! It wasn't til he pulled out the hammer that he was able to win, but..!”

“Easy Navi,” I said gently. “It's not your fault the temple has no sense of humor. He survived, and with the help of the medallion, he's going to live. We'll just have to wait for him to wake up.”

The fairy bobbed in her flight, and ended up coming to rest on the hand I held out to her.

“It'll be all right,” I said, projecting a confidence I wasn't actually sure of. “Link's too stubborn to die.”

He was, unfortunately, out for the count while the medallion did its work. My side continued to leak blood, but when I checked it, the injury was much smaller. Small enough to ignore, at the least. The Forest Medallion provided food as we waited in tense silence, and as much as I wanted to talk to Saria or Darunia, I refrained from doing so, though I held both medallions in my hands for comfort.

“Raiha?”  
“Yeah?”

“Do you... I mean, do you think...?” Ruto looked at me, at Link, and then sighed. “Are we really likely to win this?”

“....probably, yeah. I'm pretty sure that if we get through the temples in one piece Link will end up being strong enough to kick Ganondorf's ass all the way to the Desert Colossus and beyond.”

“What will happen then?”

I shrugged, then winced a little.

“I wish I knew. Hells, I wish I knew that we're doing the right thing _now_ , in clearing out all these curses. It sure is hard on the body...”

As jokes went, it fell pretty flat, but she did smile a little.

“Cheer up, Ru,” I said with a tired smile. “We're still alive, right? That means there's always a chance for things to change.”

That did seem to help, and she fell silent for a time, allowing me to slip into a doze from a mix of physical exhaustion and blood loss that turned into a surprisingly deep sleep. When I woke, the Light Medallion was balanced on the back of my neck; I felt it even as I stirred, banishing the dreams I had been wading through.

Link was a warm weight on my left, and Ruto was on _his_ left; apparently sleeping in a pile had been a good idea for all of us. I removed the Medallion with care, putting it and the other two back into Link's pouch, then shifted my weight slightly and leaned against the sleeping hero. He stirred a little, and in turn, so did Ruto, who sat up with a yawn.

Link did the same after a minute, then glanced up at me. Concern faded into embarrassment as he realized he'd ended up leaning against me, but I only grinned a little down at him. Had Ruto not been present, I may well have attempted to kiss him then. As it was, we all got up, stretched out the stiff kinks that came from sleeping in unnatural positions, collected the new toy that we were granted after defeating our shadows—the longshot, which meant Link could then pass me the hookshot—and continued deeper into the temple.

It took, I think, the better part of a week before we finally managed to clear everything. Every room, every key, every damned switch in the place.

The room where the curse was sourced was simple in execution. A pool of water with four raised 'islands' in the middle, in an otherwise nondescript room; like it had been within the Forest Temple, I could feel the cold, the darkness, otherwise we all might have turned around and left in disgust at being tricked by the temple yet again.

I almost wish we _had_.

Ruto approached the water cautiously, Link and I flanking her to either side. It looked enough like normal water that she carefully slipped into it, looking around below the surface far faster than Link or I could. It was when she tried to get out that things got... nasty.

Morpha was a strange creature. It could take the seeming of water, was just enough water that Ruto didn't have to worry about breathing, but it could also form a hard skin, and it left her trapped under the surface, banging her fists fruitlessly against a barrier that quivered but did not break.

A strange warbling sound filled the air, and tentacles rose from the surface, one of which had what looked like an eye in its middle. Link and I immediately split up.

Neither of us avoided being grabbed.

The tentacle oozed around me, pinning my arms—and by consequence, my blades—to my sides. It then proceeded to squeeze hard enough that I felt ribs crack, before launching me across the room and into the very unyielding wall. To say it _hurt_ would be an understatement. I am fairly sure I blacked out for a moment, coming too as I was picked up again, this time upside down. Woozy does not even _begin_ to describe how that felt.

It is, _to date_ , the most difficult fight with a cursed place that I've participated in. I certainly hadn't _meant_ to paint myself as particularly bouncy, but apparently I was. I admit, I entirely lost track of everything in that fight other than trying to brace for a new introduction to the wall. Eventually my body simply couldn't take it, and the darkness closed in.

 

 


	12. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reassurances, some fluff, and some explanations

Eleven

 

When I came to, I admit, _everything_ hurt. I could, vaguely, feel Link's hands around mind, and the round shape of a medallion in my hands. I could sense more than I could see that he was shaking.

The magic of the Sacred Realm had no patience for mortal foibles, of course; the minute the battle had been won—Ruto having more or less punched the heart of Morpha out of the water for Link to stab, as I was informed later by the princess herself—we had been transported to the Chamber of Sages, Ruto being deposited onto the Water Pedestal. Her anxiety was clear in the air, however, and within moments I felt other pedestals flickering to life; the first gathering of Sages, albeit an incomplete one. Voices were raised—I could hear Darunia's anger, and Saria's shock—and I hissed a little in pain (when I say everything hurt, I mean _everything_ hurt.) as Link shifted around towards the Light Pedestal, and the still-silent Sage that waited there.

I didn't clearly hear the words Link said to Rauru, but I felt the reaction; the medallion in my hands grew warmer, calling quietly to something within me that surged in response. My right hand went numb entirely, something that would have prompted me to swear had I been capable of it. The numb feeling swept upwards through my entire body, and while it removed the pain, the inability to feel _anything—_ not how I was sprawled across Link's lap, his hands on mine, not even the air of the Chamber that brushed over my face—was _intensely_ disconcerting.

I ended up unconscious again. By the time I woke, the sky overhead was the pale blue of a slowly dawning day. Underneath me was grass, and I could make out the sounds of water nearby, lapping at the shore. I rolled onto my side, braced for pain, and was not disappointed. On the plus side, it was not as severe as it had been; it felt more like I'd somehow slept wrong on _all_ of me and my entire body reacted by prolonging the sensation of pins and needles.

The headache was definitely on the unpleasant side at that, and while the other aches faded as I held still, my right hand continued to prickle and stab.

 _You are very lucky,_ a voice I didn't recognize said. _You are young and the young can survive both injuries that would otherwise kill, and magic that would do the same._

I _did_ swear this time, looking around in surprise. The voice of the old man chuckled, as that did nothing to help me, and after a minute I realized that the Light Medallion was essentially tied to my hand. Fortunately for my state of mind, Link was not far away, and he rushed over as soon as he heard me. 'Sheik' trailed after him, and nodded lightly at me. I felt, I admit, vaguely offended at the lack of concern, even as I took in whatever subtle distinction it was that told me this was not _my_ Sheik.

_You will recover girl. Be more cautious next time; my heir cannot afford to be careless._

Link pulled me into a tight hug as I registered something approaching paternal concern coming from Rauru, as well as a great exhaustion. Before I could try and speak—though what I would say I wasn't sure—his presence vanished from my mind.

Link, when I focused on him, was murmuring my name in a relieved tone, and after a minute in which I debated telling him that it _hurt_ , I wearily folded my arms around him as well, and just closed my eyes again. I could feel 'Sheik's' eyes on us before he abruptly vanished, and my hand settled back down to the low level prickling that was easy now to dismiss from my mind.

Link, when he finally pulled back enough to see my face, had tears on his own. Touched and maybe a little amused, I lifted a hand to just lightly brushed them away.

“...Didja get the name of the carriage driver who ran me over?”

His smile was tremulous, but it was there, and he surprised me by leaning his cheek into my hand.

“You're okay...”

“For one definition of okay, yeah.” Leaning against him seemed like the right idea at the moment. I was awake, but I was also _so_ tired, and after a moment I just closed my eyes again. “I scared everyone, huh?”

“Pretty much,” and I could hear the weary smile in his voice, the utter relief. “Rauru helped to heal you, but he said you'd be pretty weak for a few days. Darunia didn't know who to be mad at about it, but he said that when you were okay again we had to come to the Fire Temple to reassure him. Saria wants to see us too.”

“They won't accepted being talked to through their medallions?”

He shook his head a little, hair lightly tickling the end of my nose. I sighed a little, and half-opened my eyes.

“Well, I suppose since we're not exactly on a _strict_ schedule... It may even get us more practice in those teleport songs...”

As I shifted a little, planning on sitting up a bit more, Link's arms tightened slightly. I glanced at him in surprise, then settled a bit, seeing his expression.

“They said when you were okay, and not before,” he said firmly. “And you're still not okay.”

I considered fibbing, I really did. But after a minute I just sighed a little.

“I'm tired,” I admitted. “I shouldn't be, but I am. Though I think this,” and I lifted the hand that was holding the Light Medallion, “has done all it can do for the moment.”

He nodded, and obligingly began to untie it from my hand. I watched him for a minute, and smiled tiredly at his earnest nature. He was, by and large, still a child, despite the age of his body. But no one could witness what we had, and do what we'd done and still remain naïve. Nayru knows I didn't.

He put the medallion not into a pouch like I expected, but onto the back of the strap that I wore across my chest—when I wore my armaments, which I was not, and yes, it did take me precisely that long to realize that I was completely disarmed—that held my throwing knives. I blinked at him in surprise, and he grinned a little sheepishly.

“Saria made the adjustments. They're not... _weapons_ , but they're useful, and you're good at finding ways to... to use things like this.”

I smiled a little, shifted to be more comfortable, and closed my eyes again, absently flexing my right hand, which had gone rather stiff.

“Relying on them.... wouldn't be good,” I said drowsily, reveling in the warmth of the sunlight that we sat in. “But using them... for useful things. Yeah.”

The kiss, when it happened woke me right back up from the doze I had been slipping into. Of all people, of all times, there, at that moment, and _Link_ were not what I expected. I forgot, briefly, about pain, about the idea that we were supposed to free the curses on the Temples, that I was supposed to be _afraid_.

It was not like kissing Sheik. Oh, there was warmth, gentility, and inexperience plenty, but there was an undefinable _courage_ to Link's kiss, one that made me feel like I, too, could have some say in the world.

I know now that this was me reacting to the Triforce of Courage, it recognizing me as the one who could wield the True Force. No doubt had we known, had I _asked_ , he would have given it over without thought or care.

Bravery, even limited bravery, was definitely Link's purview, but it didn't prevent him from blushing heavily after we broke apart. I just stared at him for a little bit, pleased, yes, but also heavily concerned.

“Not to... make too fine a point of it,” I said after a long minute, “but.... You didn't _get_ those seven years, Link. So... why?”

He blushed harder, and looked a little like he wanted to combust.

“I just... you....” he words faded into incoherency as he groped for a way to explain himself. “Seeing you... You almost _died_. Rauru said that... that if we'd been even a minute later, you _would_ have. A-and... And...”

He looked away, then over the waters of the lake which I still hadn't garnered up the energy to be excited about.

“And I don't want to lose anyone else without telling them how much I care,” he finally said, his voice very soft. “You're _important_ to me. You... not from the beginning, but you've _been here_ , and the idea of you dying, of you going where I can't... Without me at least _saying_ something. I just...”

I reached up, and lightly touched a finger to his lips.

“Okay. Okay, Link,” I smiled a little. “I get it. It's okay.”

It still _felt_ a bit uncomfortable, I won't lie. The body he wore was seventeen, but his heart and his mind had not had the subsequent years of lived maturation. And yet, I didn't have it in me to deny his affection, his love. I never have.

Most of the day and over half the night was spent in a doze, curled up next to him. When I wasn't sleeping, I ate the food that was produced from the Forest Medallion, and the fish that Link caught from the lake after... erm... _borrowing_ a pole from the fishing hole. (The proprietor was really not happy about that. I thought—still think—that it's hilarious.)

By dawn I felt steadier; the pain was down to minor, and only flared if I moved too fast. I proved this to myself by picking up my long knives and doing what Sheik had often called a shadow dance. The practice warmed me up, thought I was very careful to only picture opponents I knew I could beat; no point in damaging my psyche by getting my ass handed to me by my own fears. I flowed much like the water I loved, then mistimed a kick and felt pain flare. I ended up on my ass, swearing quietly to myself, even as I was trying not to laugh.

Link came over and helped me up, worried, but also pleased.

“You're really good,” he said.

“Unlike you, I had actual training,” I said, smiling a little to try and take any sting he might hear from the words. “Still, you're not bad yourself.”

“Maybe not, but I'm not _that_ good.”

The praise, unfettered by jealousy, made me blush. Sheik, when training, was generally very stoic, and only handed out praise as an afterthought. Not to say that he didn't _care_ , he did. He just cared in a very different manner. And when he did offer praise... His smile could warm me, though most of the time all I saw was the way his visible eye crinkled with it.

“You've never seen yourself fight,” I said, smiling wryly. “You're very good, Link, for someone who has no formal training at all.”

He blinked, then blushed a little, smiling in his shy way that made agreeable goosebumps ripple across my skin. Sternly I told myself to behave, though I smiled fondly back.

I allowed him to fuss over my for one more day, not really wanting to admit that even that very brief practice had tired me more than I'd liked. I suppose a brush with death will do that. I also contacted Saria, Darunia, and Ruto through their medallions to alleviate the worst of their fears. Ruto was very put out by the fact that she couldn't immediately come and see me, instead having to stay in the Chamber of Sages until Rauru considered her in control of her power.

Considering how swiftly both Saria and Darunia had left, I was able to reassure her that she could probably manage that really quickly. Given her stubborn nature, I had no doubts on that score.

The next morning, we went directly to the Sacred Forest Meadow, where Saria was waiting. The small clearing before her temple technically counted as _part_ of her temple, so manifesting there was hardly an issue. She had even expended the power to visit the Kokiri, and explain to them—Mido specifically—that as the Sage of the Forest, she was required to remain at the temple, but they could come and visit her at any time. So we most certainly weren't alone, but that was all right.

Link quickly became caught up in Kokiri games, usually as the person they had to pile onto to stop. Saria and I stayed out of the way, but watching the play, the laughter, and the defeated groans of Link at the bottom of the pile were definitely worth the visit.

Darunia was the following day, and while he sternly lectured me on the importance of dodging because I was _not_ as tough as a Goron, it wasn't hard to see that he was glad I was in one piece. The fact that he lectured me after putting me onto one shoulder so I could travel through the temple he was repairing—Link tagging along behind and helping out with the heavy lifting—certainly helped with that impression.

It's one thing to know subconsciously that your friends care for you and want to protect you. It's another entirely to realize just how _much_ you are loved and wanted. It was.... humbling. I promised him that I would take more care in the future before we left. I intended to keep that promise too, since Link was the most immediate recipient of what would happen if I didn't.

Fortunately, Darunia didn't try to extol upon him the virtues of attempting to protect me; I would have been forced to get grumpy if he'd tried.

We checked, nervously, on Zora's Domain the following day, after a bit of finagling to get us out of the Crater. (It was not terrible pleasant, but we managed it.) Find it once more warm, the water flowing, the sounds of people splashing through the water...

There still are no words for just how relieved I was that it had thawed so completely. I had been afraid that it would still remain frozen, but I was informed—very tartly—by Ruto through her medallion that

As with the Gorons, we were hailed as heroes, and treated to their celebrations. Pretty much everyone who could—King Zora included—repaired out to the fountainhead, and there was magical lights, music, and underwater dancing. Also many rousing water acrobatics by the Zora, who were so glad to have their physical forms again that they couldn't help but _be_ elaborate.

Like the Gorons, Zora celebrations knew how to _last_ , and in the early morning hours, Link and I slipped back into Zora's Domain to discuss our next move.

“You said there's a temple in the desert?”

I nodded reluctantly, stifling a yawn; even after years of it, swimming was still the best way to tire me out, and it had only been a handful of days since my injury. I was, perhaps, not behaving as I ought to for a recovering person.

“I don't know much about it,” I admitted. “I was supposed to go when I was ten to receive training in the ways of Gerudo magic from the twins sorceresses, Koume and Kotake, and I know it's across the desert that's in an almost permanent state of sandstorm. And... and even to get to the desert we're going to have to cross through the compound. I don't know how it is now, but when I was a child, no men were allowed except the king, ever.”

He frowned a little, leaning against the wall as I dangled my feet in the flowing, refreshing water.

“I don't even know if it's a _Temple_ temple, at that,” I sighed a little. “I know it's dedicated to our goddess, the goddess of the sands, but...”

“So we need more information,” he said.

“More or less...”

“Impa's house had a lot of books,” he said after a minute. “I remember from when we were trying to track down the Spiritual Stone of Water. Maybe there's something in there that can tell us about any other temples. Because we've only got four medallions, and we need six.”

Kakariko...

The idea made me nervous, but there was no logical reason to oppose the idea. And he _was_ right; Impa's home had many bookshelves, all stuffed to the brim with books on various subjects. It was a long shot, but it was better than aimless wandering.

It took us the same four days, even with the horses—magical, horse summoning music is still the _best_ music in my opinion—because Link was keeping a sharp eye on me and insisted we stop early to help with my recovery. Any protests I put up were usually deflected with a surprisingly stern look and a reminder that I'd promised to be more careful.

It was a sneaky trick, I swear.

We left the horses as the semi-functional stable just outside the village, and started up the path. Neither of us were expecting trouble, so when we caught the faint hint of woodsmoke, and the sounds of people yelling, we both froze. He looked at me like he was going to say something particularly stupid, and I gave him a sharp glare in response.

“Don't even think about it,” I warned him. “Let's go.”

We abandoned our leisurely walk and sprinted the rest of the way up to the village, the smell of smoke getting thicker as we drew closer.

The soldiers were not _really_ soldiers, they were stalchildren and a handful of stalfos; absurdly, I found myself wondering, even as I plowed into them with my blades out, if Kakariko had somehow managed to stiff Ganondorf on the demanded tribute.

Link and I were separated by the fighting, and I found myself on the defensive near Impa's house. There were not enough people who knew how to fight in Kakariko, which was why they'd fled here in the first place; it had once been a Sheikah village, after all, and surely the shadowy guardians of the Royal Family would protect the citizens.

They clearly had not realized just how _few_ Sheikah there really were.

Some houses were on fire, and there were people dying; I wanted to get some room to put the fires out, to heal the people with the gift of the Light medallion's power, but all I could do was keep breaking bones into dust and hoping that I could reach the end of them in time to do something more _constructive._

What I got was help. Abruptly at my back, Impa herself appeared, her blade flashing in the firelight as she deflected the hit that had been aimed at my shoulder.

“Impa!”

“Good to see you again, Raiha,” she said, throwing me a smile. “In one piece at that. My apologies for not being here sooner.”

“Or at all?”

I couldn't help being somewhat snippy. She winced a little, and I immediately felt guilty, despite the accuracy of my point.

“Or at all,” she said gravely. “You have learned well.”

“I had a pretty good teacher.”

“He has learned well also.”

“What happened?”

Impa shook her head a little as we continued to shatter bones.

“Something stirs under Kakariko,” she said. “Something that was sealed, but no longer is. It summoned these creatures here, and has used the chaos to gain more power to subvert the seal entirely. It will emerge soon, and I fear what will happen then.”

I swore a little, and looked over the heads to the stalchildren, seeking a familiar blue tunic. I was, however, in the wrong position to see anything beyond more smoke and fire.

Clearing out the stalchildren—and one stalfos—at our end of the village took time, and was abruptly halted by the sound of the well brace being forcefully _launched_ through the air, coming to a splintery crash landing in the middle of the main street. My right hand abruptly began a familiar, painful tingling, even as I gave up on killing all the stalchildren and rushed instead to make sure that hadn't hit Link.

Impa was close on my heels, and we made it to the central street in time to watch 'Sheik take a header right into the dirt. Impa was there in a heartbeat, moving _through_ the shadows to his side. Link took up a defensive stance ahead of them as _something_ came out of the well. It looked like nothing more than a deep shadow, but whatever it was, it had taken 'Sheik apart—truthfully, Zelda was overconfident there; she shouldn't even had tried manhandling something like that—and was now going after Impa and Link.

I was not fast enough to prevent it from picking Link up and throwing him into a wall the way it had 'Sheik, but when I felt it turn towards Impa and her still-groggy apprentice, soemthing in me flared to life.

Perhaps it is that shadow is something I cannot abide, perhaps as the future Sage of Light, it was simply in me to stand there. Whatever the reason, I _launched_ myself forward, pulling the Light Medallion out from my bandolier, and pushed magic into it. Not to heal, though I would have accepted that as an outcome too, but to _protect_.

To protect the unconscious Link who had become as close to me as Sheik. To protect Impa, who had taught me both directly and indirectly. To protect 'Sheik', who had clearly tried to stop the shadow and failed. To protect _everyone I had ever failed_.

The medallion flared in my hands, and the invisible shadow slammed into a wall of light. For a brief second, I was able to see the shape of the creature; one eyed, at least three times my size with hands that were not attached to its arms. It was, in a word, disturbing.

It backed away from my shield of light, then rammed it again. Then again. I stood my ground, my teeth rattling with each hit that connected with the barrier, trying to buy time for Link to wake up. In the end, it didn't matter; the creature backed up almost out of the village then came at the shield with enough power that it shattered.

The backlash, both physical and magical, sent my flying, and I made friends with the wall on the other side of the well. Mercifully—I had felt things break, _again—_ I hit hard enough to be thrown into unconsciousness.

Yes, again.

Coming around took effort, like trying to wade through a particularly stubborn and thick sort of mud. I was greeted with the sight of a familiar ceiling that wavered in and out of focus for a good five minutes, and the comforting warmth that came from having the Light Medallion's healing abilities. The medallion itself rested on my chest, under the blankets that I had piled on me, though experimental—cautious and painful—shifting revealed that I wasn't wearing much else beyond bandages.

“You're awake.”

I jumped about a foot, then hissed. Sheik, hair brushed out of his face and collar down, gave me a look that was a mix of relief, resignation, and a bit of ire.

“You should avoid abrupt movements for a couple of days,” he continued, “but Impa thinks you will be all right by then.”

“W..where...?”

“It took some doing to convince Link that you would come to no harm here,” Sheik said. “However, he had things to retrieve, seven years in the past, and Impa was able to convince him that delaying would only make things worse.”

“...seven years in the past?” I managed to push myself into a sitting position, not caring how much it hurt. Despite his calm—annoyingly detached—voice, he moved forward quickly to help. “What do you mean seven years in the past?”

“Precisely that,” he replied. “Link is not like you or I; his spirit was trapped in the Sacred Realm for seven years. Because of that, and the Master Sword, he has the ability to travel back and forth through time—seven years to the past, and back here. It is in the past that some of the tools for now are hidden.”

“You mean...” I couldn't stop myself, I grabbed the front of his shirt in my fists, anger flickering through me. “You mean if I hate _waited_ , and not gone into hiding, I could have _helped him_ seven years ago?!”

“Would it have made a difference?” he asked quietly, his own hands resting on my wrists. His touch was gentle, his words were soft. “He would ave gone back with the experiences he has now, and you would remain as you were.”

I hesitated. Though about it, then slowly released his shirt. Once I no longer held the fabric, his hands shifted from my wrists to my hands, and held them gently.

“...no.... I guess not.”

It still stung though, to realize that Link had been back for a brief time and to have never known. I don't know if I would have helped, or _been_ any help, but it would have been nice to know that Link had not been eternally lost.

Sheik lightly squeezed my hands.

“If you feel up to eating, there is stew,” he said, “...and I think now we may have the talk, though it is probably too late for me to save any sort of face.”

“I'm not hungry, and you _definitely_ owe me this explanation now. What the _hell_ is going on, Sheik? Sometimes you show up and you're _you_ , and I know its you, but other times you show up, and my hand starts _stabbing_ at me, and I know it's not _you_...”

He sighed a little, nodded, and perched lightly on the edge of the bed, still holding my right hand.

“Understand, Raiha, that I have to be... circumspect about some things. I cannot just tell you everything I want to. Not only would Impa have my hide, but there is a small chance that Ganondorf's spies could hear as well. Any.... anything you inuit from what I can say and allude to... Keep to your thoughts.”

If I hadn't been worried before, that was ominous enough for concern. I nodded after a moment and he sighed, lightly brushing his fingers over the back of my hand. It was rare I had my gloves off, and I looked to see a deep golden Triforce imprinted onto my skin.

“The Triforce mark symbolizes greatness,” he said quietly. “I doubt you are the only person who has one, but it is a rare person who thinks to place it here. Only those who have one of the missing pieces should have this mark. I do not entirely know what it means that you do, and.... it causes me some concern, as I don't believe any of the sundered pieces remained with you.”

Since I had never felt particularly wise, courageous, or powerful, I had to agree. I had possessed the mark ever since I had first touched the golden triangle, but I had never fully understood _why_. After a moment, Sheik sighed, lifting a hand to very lightly brush over my cheek.

“I looked for you,” he said quietly. “I thought you might be here, but I could not find you, and while I was told to protect you, the other in my charge needs careful watching as well. My twin's training is not so advanced, though they mimic me well. I did not _mean_ for it to seem as if I abandoned you, or no longer cared. I was afraid that you would either turn up dead or... not at all. Seeing you alive...”

He had given me information in that short speech, crowding it behind the words I had wanted to hear from him for so long. His touch was soft as he smoothed some of my hair from my face, expression gentle. I leaned into his touch, sifting the words through my mind, allowing them to rest even as I did in the comfort of trust.

There had ever been only _one_ other person that he'd been sworn to guard, and she had been missing for seven dark years. I had never even considered the idea that Princess Zelda might try to emulate a member of the dying Sheikah race. The idea that she could be Sheik's twin was so far out there that it wouldn't _ever_ have been considered. When it clicked I nearly swore, but he had clearly been prepared for that, and put two fingers lightly against my lips.

“I.... understand,” I said after several minutes of struggling with shock. “That... that does explain a great deal. I'm sorry I worried you... I should have left a note or something, but I wasn't thinking clearly after everything that had happened.”

“Darunia would not have asked you to leave without reason,” Sheik smiled a little, allowing his relief to show through. “But by the time I returned, he was too busy trying to figure out why his people were going missing to tell me your whereabouts. I looked here, and I searched as many of the towns as I dared, but Impa called me back for more training. Where _were_ you?”

I had to smile.

“Lon-Lon Ranch,” I admitted. “Malon helped me, and I helped her. Ingo didn't even know I was there.”

He chuckled a little, and sighed.

“Of course. Close enough to Dead Town that I would not think to search there. Why?”

“Why did I end up there?” He nodded a little, and I leaned back against the pillows. “Gerudo are horsewomen. Ganondorf might send out a blight to screw with crops and Hylians, but the one thing he won't do is harm a horse, no matter how evil. Respect for horses is trained into us from the time we get our first ponies; we need them as pack animals, and as companions in battle. So it made sense that he wouldn't do much to the ranch except maybe terrify the occupants every now and again.”

Sheik squeezed my hand gently.

“There were.... many words said after I learned of your survival,” he said quietly. “Many of them quite heated.”

I blinked, then couldn't help but giggle; he'd all but admitted that he'd _yelled_ at Zelda for not telling him that I was all right.

“We are not yet agreed as to the rotation of who will watch whom, though my twin is insistent upon keeping close eye on Link's progress. So you may yet meet them once more. Your hand paining you is... of concern, though I know not what might cause that. Does is do so around anyone else?”

I hesitated, then nodded. Sheik did not ask for specifics, and the look he gave me warned against further extrapolation. Which was understandable, if annoying; I wanted to bounce ideas off of him, or at least say something out loud.

“Be careful then,” he said. “Without knowing what it means, it could possibly be warning you of danger.”

I considered the idea with a faint frown; my hand tingled around Link. It only started feeling achy when I saw 'Sheik', or when Ganondorf's spirit—or whatever that had been in the Forest Temple where he'd spoken to us—had intruded.

If lightning had struck me, I couldn't have sat up any straighter. I knew. _I knew_. Right at that moment I understand the shape of what was happening, and more importantly, _why_. I didn't want to affect it—we were so far into the pattern that the only thing to do would be to complete it—but I needed to find a specific book, and fast.

“Lemme up.”

Sheik blinked at me, finally releasing my hand, and I flung the blankets off, and made the attempt at standing. Lucky me, he didn't move far as my legs did _not_ want to hold me. The Light Medallion slipped off my chest and rolled briefly on the floor as I struggled to get my legs to work, swearing softly at my uncooperative body.

Sheik, to his credit, did _not_ laugh at me. He helped me to sit on the edge of the bed, then handed the Medallion to me.

“What do you need?”

I told him. After a long, hesitant minute he went and fetched me a slim book that had been hidden within two others. It didn't _have_ a title. What it was, all fifteen pages of it, was a spell.

“Do you know what you're doing?” he asked quietly, settling again on the edge of the bed.

“....If I knew what I was doing, I wouldn't be so freaked out,” I admitted after a minute, holding the book like an unopened prayer in my hands. “I don't know if this will work. I don't know that it _won't_. But if it's going to end like that, I'm going to have some say in it. One way or the other.”

He looked at me for a long moment, then moved to sit next to me. I leaned into his warmth, my hands shaking slightly. His arm slid around my waist comfortingly.

“I'm scared out of my mind,” I confessed quietly. “This is so big. So beyond me. If I'd done something different, I wouldn't even be here. Not as I am now. But...”

I looked down at my lap. My brown skin, and the hair that flopped over my eyes. The golden Triforce mark on the back of my right hand. I took in a breath. Let it out.

“But I will be _damned_ if I let him win.”

Sheik nodded quietly, not arguing with the choice I was making.

I had skimmed over the spell when I had been looking for information on the Zora's Sapphire seven years before. It hadn't interested me then, but that was how I'd known where to find it. Parts of it had stuck out in my mind, even then, in ways I didn't fully comprehend. It had been that spell, or some truncated form of it, that had allowed me to build the shield that took almost a suicidal hit from the Shadow Spirit to break.

I cracked open the book and began to read.

 


	13. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renewed convalescence, owed explanations, and not-so-owed explanations.

Twelve

 

I read for hours. The spell may only have been fifteen pages long, but that was fifteen pages, back to back, in very neat, relatively _small_ , handwriting. To call it complicated would have been an understatement, and I knew there was no chance I'd be memorizing it on my first try. Casting it was out of the question; this was my last resort, my backup in case everything else we brought to bear failed, and it could only work under some very specific circumstances that weren't, at the moment, fulfilled.

I held onto the hope, then, that I wouldn't need the spell, but some part of me knew. Destiny, fate, whatever you want to call it, the path we had walked was cemented now, and the end it led to wasn't uncertain. It was during and after, that was the part that would remain unclear and unknown.

Sheik eventually took the book from me and made me eat, but he didn't try and insist on much else.

Impa returned that night, her face a grim mask streaked with soot and drenched from the rain that had started before I'd woken up. Sheik rather hastily repaired his uniform to the way it was supposed to be, but she only gave him a knowing look. It was kind of funny to watch him blush, and it also gave me a chance to tuck the book under my blankets; I didn't want her to know, or even to suspect, though no doubt she already did at that point.

“I don't know that I can wait for the return of Link,” she said quietly, standing at attention—more or less—at the foot of the bed I was still resting in. “I can feel the encroaching shadows from the graveyard, beyond which rests the Shadow Temple of the Sheikah.”

“What is a temple doing hiding behind a graveyard?” I asked.

“...Hyrule's history is one that is unkind,” she said after a moment, abandoning her stance with a grimace and sitting on the stool that was near the head of the bed. “For all the king wished to hide the truth, wars are bloody, dark affairs, rife with torture for information, and killing. The most recent war was one that decimated my people, and we were commanded to use that place to hold dangerous prisoners, and extract information from them in... unkind ways.”

“...and you sealed a Shadow spirit beneath the well, within _reach_ of that?”

She looked rather embarrassed. I just felt like I'd run into a brick wall, and I have to say, even now, I'm surprised she thought sealing an angry spirit beneath a well within reach of the Shadow Temple was a _good_ idea.

...to be fair, Kakariko's history is rather... _convoluted_ at best. I suppose a mostly-empty village, prior to her opening it to outsiders, seemed like a safe place, even as it was fed with the grief, pain and despair of those who were unlucky enough to be left there.

Actually, no, it's still a stupid idea. I've just done stupider. _Much_.

“It was the only location at the time, and we were running out of options,” she sighed a little. “Unfortunately, while it was injured breaking through your shield, the darkness of the temple itself has undoubtedly been restoring it little by little. Perhaps if I go ahead of Link...”

“He'll get upset,” I told her cheerfully. “He's like an accidentally kicked puppy. You'll get the 'how could you _do_ that to me' look if he catches up to you.”

That made both her and Sheik chuckled a little.

“Our options are very few. I may have to risk it if he is not back by morning. And you, I think, will not fare well in there at all, even with the Lens of Truth.”

My teasing amusement fled.

“Why not?”

“Because there are invisible floors over very deep pits,” she said, her tone equable. “You are prone to freezing up in high places.”

I grimaced; she was, of course, correct.

“And you no doubt have much of your own research to do.”

So much for hiding the book.

I nodded a little, feeling a tad sulky about things. I hadn't precisely _wanted_ a 'get out of Shadow Temple free' card, but that was indeed what I'd been handed. To be fair—not entirely the state of mind I wanted to indulge in, but that was the past and this is now—she was trying to pay me back for saving not just her, but Zelda as well. I hadn't nearly died this time, but I had more or less set off a flare of magic that, by all technical rights, I shouldn't even have _had._

What it was, in point of fact, was both the latent abilities as the next Sage of Light—a position I was wary about since I certainly didn't like the idea of being stuck in the Sacred Realm, unable to do _anything—_ and the two Triforce pieces that were within reach of amenable hosts. Link was unconscious at the time, to be sure, but Zelda had undoubtedly wanted to help, and through that desire, I had been empowered, if only briefly.

Make no mistake, I was also the slightest bit relieved. It was _exhausting_ work, traversing these temples, and breaking the curses. There was the weight, the fear, that we were not moving fast enough, that we were not _doing_ enough, that hung over my head. My awareness of the pattern had faded by that point, but my determination had not flagged.

Impa looked to Sheik, who straightened slightly.

“Remember your duty,” she told him. “Remember the oath you swore, and who will eventually have to come first. And be careful. Remind... them to be careful as well. The dark forces are still moving, after all, even if they have been halted by the resistance. Tarrying too long in one spot may bring about detection.”

He nodded a little, expression solemn. After a moment, she smiled.

“And cherish what you have been given. It is a gift.”

She glanced from him to me,and we _both_ blushed this time. Her smile turned into a chuckle and she headed down the stairs to the main room. She was not precisely out of ear shot, but if we kept our voices low, we could pretend.

Sheik, looking somewhat embarrassed still, came to claim the stool.

“That went well,” I said after a minute, glancing sidelong at him.

He sighed at me, but it was a mix of fondness and exasperation, and only served to make me grin.

“Well it _did_. She could have tried forbidding it all together.”

“Another leader might have,” he said after a minute, pushing his bangs to one side. “But Impa is as wise as she is strong. And... perhaps I am selfish for saying it, but there would be no reason to forbid it. There is no rule saying that Sheikah and Gerudo can't.... intermingle.”

I snorted in amusement.

“If I recall correctly, _you_ were the one who was fussed about being my bodyguard,” I teased.

“I still am,” he said quietly. “The fact that I lost you for so long is a mark against me, regardless of who else I am supposed to serve. If I cannot guard you, someone who is... very important to me, then how am I to be able to guard the one to whom I gave an oath?”

“...try being less serious for a minute? I was _teasing_.”

He smiled a little.

“I was not attempting to be serious,” he chided gently. “It truly is something that speaks against my skills; I should have found you easily, but you have taken to certain lessons so quickly that it was hard enough to find that you had spent some time here, before vanishing entirely.”

I motioned him closer; he obligingly leaned in. I kissed his cheek.

“If _you_ couldn't find me, with all your skills, then Ganondorf never had a clue,” I said as he stared at me in surprise. “That's honestly kind of reassuring.”

He sighed a little, and bowed to the inevitable. In this case, my logic.

“I still missed you,” he said softly.

“Yeah. I missed you too. I worried,” I continued quietly, drawing my knees up to my chest under the blanket. “I was so happy when I thought I saw you at the... the Forest Temple.”

“I'm sorry. Had I _known_ I would have been there. It was not so much skill as luck that allowed me to meet you at Death Mountain, and I believe my heart stopped at the sight.” He smiled faintly. “I must admit, both red and blue look better on you than very ordinary brown and cream.”

I blushed, and stuck my tongue out at him. He only chuckled, the jerk, and lightly rested one hand on mine.

“May I hold you?”

I blinked at him, then made room on the bed. He climbed up onto it, sitting on top of the covers—ever a stickler for permission that he was—then wrapped his arms around me. I sternly told myself to _not_ cry and curled against him.

I ended up falling asleep like that, forgoing any possible studying that night in favor of being held by someone I loved. When I woke the next morning, I had been neatly tucked into the bed; the blanket was tucked up under my chin, the book was on the small bedside table, and there was also a small try as well, with what looked to be breakfast things, and a note.

The note was pretty sparse, revealing that Impa had gone on to the Shadow Temple as she'd warned, and that Sheik was still helping some of the villagers with repairs to their homes, and would be in and out all day. It was honestly a bit touching, and after I devoured the food, I settled in to do some studying.

Two hours in, my studying was interrupted by the door banging abruptly open, and someone tromping in. Or perhaps squelching is a more evocative word; it had been raining hard since before I had woken up. I had decided to _not_ test my balance yet, and kept my studying in bed, but the uncaring footsteps worried me. I had just enough time to hide the book before Link's head appeared at the top of the stairs. His concerned expression relaxed into relief and I smiled at him in reply.

“You're soaked,” I pointed out.

“...it's pouring,” he replied, coming to sit on the stool.

“So get a towel you goof,” I snorted in amusement. “If _you_ get sick, we'll never hear the end of it.”

He shook his head a little.

“I'm going back out in it,” he sighed a little. “Sheik.. explained, a little. Impa's gone ahead to the Shadow Temple to try and make sure that thing can't get out, and you've been told to not come.”

I smiled crookedly; my paranoid protector...

“Right on both counts.”

“You sure you're not coming?” he asked, a little anxiously.

I reached out and gently patted him on the shoulder.

“I can't,” I replied, hating myself but knowing it for the truth. “It's not that I don't want to, but if what Impa said is correct I'll be worse than useless there. You know how I get with heights. As much as I want to help, I'd probably get in the way. However, I _am_ glad you stopped here first. You should take the Sages' medallions at the least, and definitely the bow.”

“The bow? _Your_ bow?”

His voice rose a little into a squeak, making me laugh.

“Yes, _my_ bow. Just... trust me, all right? I have a feeling you'll need it. And hey, maybe the Fire Medallion can keep you somewhat dry.”

He stuck out his tongue at me, and I couldn't help but laugh.

“Are... are you really okay?” he asked after a long minute of silence.

I nodded.

“I'm tired,”I said, “and I'm not entirely sure I have my sense of balance back yet, but otherwise, yeah, I'm all right.”

It wasn't technically, a lie. While still sort of reeling from the twin hits of yesterdays' discoveries, on the whole, I was fine. I even had a rudimentary idea for a last-ditch, all-else-fails plan, though I hoped I wouldn't ever have to use it.

He studied me uncertainly for a minute, then sighed.

“I just...”

“It's all right, Link,” I said firmly. “You'll come back here when you're done, and you'll tell me all about what I missed. I _know_ you will, because after this, we're going to have to go out to the desert and see if my memory isn't telling us an tales.”

It got a reluctant smile, and I patted him on the shoulder again.

“You'll do fine, hero boy,” I said softly. “I believe in you.”

That seemed to do the trick; he carefully buckled on my throwing knives and the quiver for the bow, then hesitated a minute more. After a moment I smiled and waved him over, giving him the same favor I'd given Sheik the night before; a kiss on the cheek.

Link blushed, and looked, for a moment, like he might kiss me back, but below the door opened again and another person—Sheik this time—stepped in. Link pulled back quickly, then headed for the stairs. I didn't hear any exchange of words, but the air was somewhat more tense when the door closed a second time. After a few minutes, Sheik came up the stairs, also soaking wet. Unlike Link, he availed himself not only of a towel, but of the clean, dry clothing that was hung beyond a folding screen.

“How are you feeling?” Sheik asked as he worked on drying off and changing.

“Tired. Not up to standing. Otherwise fine. Why?”

“Making sure. Impa didn't think you would be up for standing for a couple of days at least.”

“You could've warned me of that _yesterday_ ,” I said dryly. “How's the town?”

“Shaken, but recovering, and repairs are going far quicker than I anticipated. The villagers are not entirely sure they understand what's happened; some of them think it was Ganondorf, while others want to know if there's some third party getting involved in the war.”

“What'd you tell them?”

“That when I knew more, I would let them know.”

I raised an eyebrow as he hung up the dripping clothes.

“So, you pretty much told them nothing.”

He shrugged a little, then nodded.

“It makes no difference; indirectly, this _is_ Ganondorf's fault, but I have no desire to see this town decimated because they decided to not send their tribute for the month. Better, in this case, that they not know so that they can remain among the living.”

I grimaced. While I could hardly fault him for not confirming or denying, it still seemed dishonest. Even so, I agreed with him; I _liked_ Kakariko. The idea that Ganondorf my set his _real_ forces upon the village was unpalatable.

I could tell, too, that something was bothering him. I was pretty sure I could out-wait him if I had to, but what I _wanted_ to be doing was studying the spell and committing it to memory.

“All right, what's wrong?”

He looked at me, then away.

“If you're not gonna tell me, I have to guess,” I warned him. “Since it's not the village, I'm guessing it has to do with... Link.”

Minutely, he flinched, letting me know that I had hit the bullseye. I just muttered a few unkind things under my breath.

“Look, I don't get how Hylians have relationships,” I said in mild exasperation, “but clearly they can get possessive. So just spit it out.”

“Gerudo relations are... different?”

There was a hesitance, an uncertainty to his tone.

“Well, yeah. We're all _women_ , of course we handle things differently.”

He frowned; I rolled my eyes.

“Look, there's literally only _one_ Gerudo male allowed to be born per however long that male lasts. If we want to survive without the tribe dying out in any way, we kind of _have_ to take a different view on things. Hylians are just stuck up about it.”

He went stiff, and I knew I'd insulted him then. It wasn't what I'd _meant_ to do, but stupid teenagers say stupid teenager things.

“Damnit, that came out wrong,” I muttered. “I'm not saying I don't care about you, okay? I do. I care a lot. I'm saying I'm not _limiting_ myself to only being able to care that strongly about one person. Caring about you, and caring about Link don't _have_ to be two separate levels of affection. They can be the same. I can love both of you, and want what's best for you both _without_ placing one above the other.”

“...love?” he said quietly, all hostility gone.

“Yes, damnit, _love,”_ I shot back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Love doesn't have to be limited to one type, to one person. I love my friends, and I love you and Link in a _more_ than friends sort of manner. You're both too important to me.”

“And you don't elevate one above the other?”

“If this is a roundabout way of asking me to choose, you're not winning points,” I told him flatly. “You spent seven years taking care of me; I don't know when you started loving me, but I've probably loved you since I was fourteen, and just never did anything about it until I was sixteen. Link's bravery and kindness when I've been extremely stressed out during this temple clearing fiasco is part of why I love him! I am _not_ going to say I love you more or I love him more because that's just _stupid_!”

He came and sat on the stool then, cautiously. To be fair I was _highly_ irritated about the question, both at him for asking, and myself for not considering it might _be_ asked.

“This would be where the Gerudo stereotype of promiscuity comes in, yes?” He asked carefully.

I snorted a little.

“No, that's probably founded in truth because Gerudo, again, _don't have male tribe members_ ,” I pointed out acidly. “We love...” I sighed, and shifted tactics, dredging up half-forgotten memories of childhood. Of my mother, my aunts, my older cousins, and of shamelessly eavesdropping on some conversations. “When we love, it's usually another woman, because that's who we are as a tribe. It may be more than one among us, and it just doesn't _matter_. We love whom we love, and we don't apologize for that. It's _hard_ to love sometimes...” and I couldn't help the sadness that crept into my voice. “And it's harder still when that person doesn't love you back, but when you really care, you want them to be happy, because them being happy is part of _your_ happiness.”

Sheik remained silent for a moment, and I took that moment and did my best to plow on. I wasn't interested in airing my own heartbreak, the fact that I knew that last part so very personally.

“It's not like I expect you to love, or fall _in_ love with Link,” I finished wearily. “I just want to be able to love you both, and not have it be seen as something... _wrong_. And Hylians always see it as wrong. It's not. It's just... different.”

“It's a bit confusing,” he said after a minute. “I.. need to think about this.”

I just nodded. I could hardly force an understanding, or acceptance, but I knew that if he _couldn't_ accept it, that would be his choice. It would hurt like hell, but I would accept whatever choice he made that didn't threaten what had been worked for.

He retreated down the stairs, and busied himself with... something. I went back to my studying, and tried not to wonder what decision he would eventually come to. Worrying about the outcome, one that I had no control over, wouldn't change anything.

With effort, I was able to focus on the book, and used it to block out other thoughts, eventually becoming genuinely immersed in the intricacies of the spell. I dimly heard Sheik leave, no doubt to continue helping the villagers, and then, much later, registered his return. I was on the fifth page at that point, having crawled through the others at a snails pace to ensure proper memorization.

I heard him come up after a bit, carrying something that rattled, but it wasn't until he firmly removed the book from my hands that I really took note of him. I squeaked and reached for it, but he was standing, and for once, had height on me.

“You haven't eaten all day,” he said sternly. “Other than what you had for breakfast. You need to eat and regain your strength so that you can help Link with the last temple.”

“No fair using my inability to walk against me,” I huffed as he put the book firmly out of reach, then put the tray of supper—a hearty stew, bread, and cheese—on my lap.

“Very fair,” he countered, “since you clearly hadn't even noticed you missed lunch.”

It was then I noticed that the tray next to the bed had been refilled, and had plainly cooled while I wasn't paying it any mind.

“...uh... sorry?”

He sighed a little, but seemed mollified by the apology and sat on the stool next to me as I carefully sampled the stew. It was hot, but not unpleasantly so, and I was quick to eat now that my body was reminded of the more mundane. When the tray was empty, he nodded in satisfaction, returned the book, and gathered up what I hadn't eaten for lunch.

I couldn't help feeling a bit forlorn, so when he paused at the top of the stairs, I winced, worrying that he would tell me the things I didn't want to hear.

“I do not entirely understand everything you said earlier,” he said quietly. “But what I do understand is that we both make you happy, in different ways. I find... peace in your happiness. So I am willing to try.”

I released the breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding, relief sweeping through me.

“Thank you Sheik...”

He nodded a little, then went down the stairs.

I returned to my book.

It took Link and Impa three further days to clear the Shadow Temple. I was up and testing my strength on the second day, with Sheik to remind me to take breaks from studying. By day three I had the spell as memorized as it was bound to get, and was starting to feel restless from waiting for so long.

The rain clearing out was the first sign that things in Kakariko would be returning to normal; it had been pouring hard the entire time, though that had not stopped the villagers from attempting to repair their homes that had been damaged by fire. It took me several minutes to realize that the steady drumming sound of it on the roof had halted, and I immediately went to the door.

The sunshine was the most welcome thing I'd seen all week, and judging by the faint cheering I could hear from around the village, I wasn't the only one to be happy about it. I retreated indoors so I could grab my boots, then covered my hair and went seeking a hero.

I found Link staggering out of the graveyard, pale-faced, with dark circles under his eyes, and horror lurking within them. When he saw me, he rushed to me, almost knocking me over as he flung his arms around me and held on tight. Even as tight as he clung he was shaking hard enough that standing, walking, was clearly difficult. We ended up kneeling on the wet ground, his head firmly against my shoulder.

To say I was worried was an understatement. What had _happened_ in the temple to make him react so? Even Navi seemed frightened, refusing entirely to come out from under Link's hat, no matter how gently I cajoled. Given that usually Navi would tell me what Link couldn't—or wouldn't—this didn't do much to help my state of mind.

I did what I could to soothe him, rubbing his back where I could reach it, smoothing a hand over his hat since I couldn't really get at his hair too well, and eventually he stopped shaking enough that I could lead him at a stumbling walk back to Impa's house. Barely a third of the way there, Sheik came up on Link's other side, took one look at the beleaguered hero, winced, and helped to steady him. Clearly, he knew more than I did about what really went on in the Shadow Temple.

We got Link back to the house, and I left the two males alone so that Sheik could help Link into clothing that didn't reek of graveyard dirt. The silence, except for the faint ruffling of cloth, was far more tense than it had been before, and part of it, I knew, was me.

Sheik moved with quiet care down the stairs, and I gave him a sharp look.

“He's in bed,” he said quietly. “I don't know how long he'll sleep, but part of it is sheer exhaustion. I don't think he's slept much since he left for the temple...”

“What's in the temple that could produce that sort of reaction?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice level.

Sheik looked at me for a moment, then sighed, and motioned for me to follow. I hesitated, glancing between him and the stairs, then cautiously got up.

“You'll probably end up very angry,” he said quietly. “And he _does_ need to rest.”

That was certainly foreboding. After a moment I nodded, and followed Sheik. He led the way out of the house, and to my surprise, we ended up in the graveyard, heading for the back of it. Each step we took further in sent a shock of ice up my spine, until I was rooted in place, shuddering.

“Sheik,” I said a little hoarsely.

He stopped, turned back, then moved to my side, one arm supporting my as my knees buckled.

I had never been in the graveyard; there had never been a need for it. I had meant to, but then, I had never been _in_ Kakariko long enough to fully explore. And, like the area around the well, approaching the entrance itself made me feel uneasy; it was always easier to promise to look at it _later_.

Later had become now, and by all that's holy, I had never felt so cold, so _ill,_ in all my life. I had only made it a third of the way in at that; to the most recent, public graves.

Sheik took my out of the graveyard, and instead we went up the trail towards Goron City; as promised, the rocks had stopped rolling down the mountain, and the gate had been reopened. No one typically went _up_ the trail, though, so it was deserted enough for the conversation.

Hylia help me, it was rough. Sheik knew, in dry, clinical detail, every single thing that had taken place in the bloody past of the Shadow Temple. He knew what bodies had been left, how the spirits had refused to pass on because of all the anger and pain inflicted upon them, _why_ they had become like that... he even knew what sorts of creatures had taken to calling the temple their home. Their tricks. Their illusions.

And then he confirmed that Impa had indeed known all of it, and had probably not shared this information with Link.

Seething was a good word for how I was feeling after all of that information. Out and out _furious_ would have been more accurate, but the person I _really_ wanted to yell at—Impa—had ascended to being the Shadow Sage. I still put a lot of thought into yelling at her.

Instead, I yelled at Sheik, who could _also_ have informed Link about the dangers of the temple. He didn't try to verbally defend himself either, though whether it was because I was right, or because he could tell I wasn't interested, I'm still not sure. Either way by the time I was done, he knew full well my feelings on _that_ , and I stomped back through the village to check on Link, leaving him back in the canyon.

Link, fortunately, was still out of it. Navi, on the other hand, had woken up; as Sheik had placed Link's hat very carefully on the bedside table, I was able to sit and talk with her, very quietly.

Fairies, on a whole, are very pure. They're a lot like children in a way. (Yes, even the great fairies, and no, I really don't fully understand their aesthetic. I have stopped trying.) Mortals, sentient ones who live, and die in a cycle of years, don't get to be as pure. If I had tried harder, suppressing the feeling as long as possible instead of realizing what it was, I could likely have made it father into the graveyard. Possibly even to the edges of the temple itself, though that was a big if.

Navi had barely been able to _function_ in the Shadow Temple. I have little doubts that if she'd been required to spend even one more day in the temple, her light may well have gone out. It was, in all honesty, a terrifying prospect. If ever a fairy was able to be thoroughly traumatized from an experience, it was her, and I wondered—wonder still—how well she would be able to recover from such a thing.

I did what I could for her, setting the Light Medallion on the table and gently depositing her upon it; maybe the healing only worked for physical injuries, but after so much darkness, it couldn't hurt to feel the warmth of light.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention polyshipping a my thing? It's totally my thing


	14. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering, emotions, and information

Thirteen

 

Link did not sleep well, as Sheik had predicted. Less than an hour after I'd done what I could to help Navi—and to be sure, the power of the Medallion had definitely improved the strength of her light—he sat bolt upright in the bed, gasping for breath as though he'd been fighting for several hours without a break.

“Easy,” I said softly. “Easy, Link. It was a dream. You're all right. I'm right here, you're all right.”

I reached out, touched his shoulder lightly, and once more got an armful of shaking, terrified hero. This time I could do a little more; I ran my fingers through his hair, rubbed little soothing circles on his back, and did my level best to hang on to my temper, because seeing him like that just pissed me _right_ the hells off.

I couldn't rightly think of him as a child, as he was decidedly not. He had lost the seven years, yes, but he _had_ matured while we had gone through the temples. And I suppose in the interest of being fair, it's hard to save the world and remain young and naïve. It's hard to fall in love with someone, and not grow a little older every time they scare you. (Nayru knew I had managed to do that relatively quickly, and bless him, he never blamed me for it.)

But in that moment, with that horror fresh in his mind, he very much was. And he needed me not as someone he was falling in love with, but as a friend who was there to support and comfort him in times of dire need. And really, how could I not, with all the help he'd given me?

It wasn't about how much I owed him for his help, for his freely given affection and support either. I held and comforted him because he needed it, and I was, perhaps, the only person he could revert back to being a brave, foolhardy child _with_. For me, the loss of his innocence was enough to make my heart break and my thoughts rage; he should not have been forced into that.

But there was little to be done after the fact other than hold him, and allow him to talk, or not, as he wanted. Recovery from emotional trauma was not the same as physical trauma, and I was resolved to not push it.

In point of fact, it took Link two weeks to stop having daily nightmares that drained him of energy. Two very long, very worrying weeks.

Sheik wisely remained out of reach the few times he returned to check on us during that time. I was still angry enough that I probably _would_ have slugged him, given half the chance. Not anything more permanent, but a brawl was just what I wanted, some days. Mostly when that happened I would take my blunted throwing daggers and stand just outside the front door, throwing them into a makeshift target to keep in shape. Sometimes I would do shadow-dancing with my knives. A handful of times I caught Sheik watching me with silent approval, usually right about the time I was too tired to be upset any longer.

He was a clever sneak like that.

I did not share the bed with Link unless he asked, but there was a time or two where he ended up on the floor with me, when I was so tired that his nightmares—he never screamed, but he thrashed about a lot—didn't wake me. Usually his forehead would be pressed against my shoulder, his hands tightly gripping the back of my shirt and bedroll even in sleep.

I had not the heart to disturb him on those days, and would lay there until he woke a second time—usually much easier—before letting my day begin.

If not for the tribute day, we probably would have stayed much longer.

Tribute day is not a day chosen in advance; at least, not to the eyes of the people of Kakariko. It is a day within the last week of the month where armed Gerudo show up en masse and lay claim to the goods that the villagers had set aside for the tribute, and may the goddesses help the village as a whole if they find any of it missing. It was also a day where the entire village had to turn out for inspection, just to make sure that they weren't hiding any suspicious persons.

Like, say, _us_.

Sheik woke us at midnight with the news that the Gerudo force would be there by daybreak. Reluctantly or not, Link and I dressed with speed and grabbed everything that was ours that we would need. Sheik, to my surprise, was coming with us.

“For a short time, yes; if the Gerudo see you, they will no doubt spur to the chase. If that comes to pass, my shadow and I will cast an illusion, and the two of you can safely evade them while they are led astray.”

“...is that really a good idea?” I asked. “I mean...”

He touched my cheek lightly, and I fell silent; being angry with him had not killed the strength of the affection I felt, nor the concern of what might happen.

“We will be fine, Raiha,” he said firmly, visible eye steady in the lamplight. “If we are separated, I will meet you again at the Desert Colossus.”

“...you really think we'll make it that far?”

His hand fell from my cheek to my shoulder, and squeezed lightly.

“I have faith in you,” Sheik said simply. “You will figure this out. You are just as much a heroine as Link is a hero; you can do this.”

It helped.

We left with the cover of darkness, rags muffling the feet of our horses, but there was no way to avoid the Gerudo that had camped between us and the river in preparation for the next morning. They hadn't become lazy enough to avoid the posting of guards, so it wasn't long before we were caught out.

Whatever Sheik and Zelda did, however, it worked magnificently. He peeled away from us—and for a moment I caught sight of them both from behind, twins indeed on chestnut mares—and the Gerudo women who were awake gave chase. Link and I were able to ride away unmolested.

I was not, I realized, the only one casting worried looks over my shoulder. Link was doing the same, and then looking at me as well. I kneed my horse closer to his so I could briefly clasp his hand—there are perks to knowing how to ride as though you and the horse are one, after all.

“He said he'd see us at the Colossus,” I said, voice raising slightly to be heard over the rush of a canter. “That means we have to _get_ there, right?”

After a minute he squeezed my hand and nodded.

Of the people I've had the fortune to love, Link is perhaps the most accepting; he had never asked what sort of relationship was between us any more than he asked what sort of relationship I had with Sheik. I think he understood, and the fact that he simply let it be was one of the greater gifts he ever gave me. I don't doubt—now anyways—that he felt affection for Sheik as well. Even if he didn't know the truth.

Once we were safely out of range of getting caught by my kin, we allowed the horses to fall back into a mix of trotting and walking. We didn't speak much, and every now and again, despite the fact that we knew Sheik would catch up, one of us would be looking for him over our shoulders.

We ended up going the _very_ long route towards the desert, skirting around the back of the lands that belonged to Lon-Lon Ranch in an effort to avoid the sickly cold that was Dead Town. We hadn't discussed it, it was simply something that ended up happening.

To be sure, we didn't discuss much on that three-week-long journey to the Gerudo Valley that was the border between Hyrule and the Gerudo Desert. Link's nightmares hadn't fully abated, which left him to tired for talk most days, and the closer we got, the more nervous I became, which didn't really improve my conversational skills any.

I had lived outside the desert for most of my life at this point. I had seen several maps—I still had them tucked away in a pouch—of Hyrule, and even someone's attempt at mapping out the desert itself beyond the Valley. But there is a large difference between studying a map and returning to ones' childhood home. Especially considering said childhood home was libel to get me into more hot water than I could escape.

The heat increased slowly as we approached the Gerudo Valley, and it was probably the best part of the trip. The rough red hills turned into rough red cliffs, and the grass slowly turned yellow. It was still edible—we couldn't have raised our horses on sand, after all—but it was kind of funny to see Link eye it warily until he saw me calmly leading my horse into it.

The Gerudo Valley in midday was nice and shady, but still hot. A waterfall and river neatly bisected the Valley, and I knew that we could—and had—send buckets down into the river in the event the omnipresent sandstorm buried one of the small oases that we used as watering stations. There was, naturally, a well in the compound itself, but the water was strictly regulated.

You don't waste water in the desert. Ever.

Link, to my vast amusement, donned the Goron Tunic to help him deal with the heat. I just stripped off my undershirt and my head covering, and _reveled_ in it. Nervous as I was, it was _nice_ to finally feel warm.

I was surprised by the lack of watchers in the canyon itself until we reached the bridge. Or rather, what was _left_ of the bridge. Most of it was clean gone, with only a few well supported end pieces holding on for dear life. On the far side was an encampment, but it looked nothing like the Gerudo tent, which meant someone had been stranded over there for however long the bridge had been broken.

Link looked from the broken bridge to me.

“...what do we do?” he asked.

I looked at the far end of the bridge to help deal with my nerves.

“We jump.”

“....what?”

I had to grin at the flat tone of voice. I couldn't blame him either, I was the mistress of height terrors, and here I was suggesting we jump a bridge.

“Not on foot. Trust the horse. Epona's made a bigger jump than this and survived, right? You had to get out of the ranch without using the gate, that's what you told me.”

Link hesitated, then looked at the bridge again.

“Are you _sure_ about this?” he finally asked.

“....honestly? I'm not sure of anything.” I rested my hands lightly on my knees, leaning back slightly. “What's over there might very well kill me, or it could be friendly. I've been gone for almost ten years, maybe I'll get lucky and they'll welcome me back. I don't know. What I _do_ know is that we need to reach the Desert Colossus, and we're not going to do that by being stuck over here.”

He edged Epona closer, hesitated a moment, then reached out and put a hand over mine. I smiled at him, and gave his hand a light squeeze.

“I do think I know a way of getting us through into the desert though, so we might not even need to deal with... my family. As long as nothing else unexpected happens...”

That did not seem to reassure him. After a moment I just shrugged and started backing my horse up some. I was going to need to reach a full gallop to cross the gap.

“Just trust the horse and do what I do,” I told him as he back Epona up as well. “Let me go first.”

His expression suggested he didn't like it, but he nodded, and moved out of the way. While tandem jumping was certainly possible, on a bridge that narrow there was no guarantee that one of the horses wouldn't get injured, and I wasn't about to let _that_ happen. Malon would have killed me, not to mention the aunt that had trained me to begin with.

It's funny how being on a horse is the only real way I've found thus far of mitigating this crippling fear of mine. On a horse, distance from me to the ground is almost double, but it's never made me freeze. Horses are fairly smart creatures, after all, and if they don't balk, neither do I.

And there is something intensely freeing about sailing over a gap on the back of a horse. The wind pulling back the long braid I hadn't bothered to pin up, finding the small gaps in the laces of my tunic and rushing through... I couldn't help but whoop in a mix of delight and—admittedly—a bit of terror as I landed on the other side, and the horse raced up to the level ground.

There is nothing quite like riding a horse, let me tell you.

Once I calmed back down and ran my horse in a few circles to settle her, I waved for Link to come over.

Now, Link was admittedly natural on a horse, but he didn't have much _jumping_ practice. So his landing ended up with him almost flipping off Epona when she landed and taking a saddle-horn to the gut—I had warned him about that thing multiple times, but he did need _something_ to hold onto without any reins, so it had remained. I struggled to not laugh as he ended up sliding off of the mare and just flopping onto the ground.

I slid off my own and went to check on him.

“You dead?~”

“Ngh.”

“I told you something like that would happen eventually.”

_“Nnnnn.”_

“If you can stand, we can probably shelter in that tent over there.”

He cracked an eye open and gave me his best attempt at a baleful look. If anything, it was just pouty, and I had to snicker to myself for a few moments before I helped him to stand, putting an arm around him to help him walk.

The tent in question was occupied by two men, one of which I actually vaguely recognized as the leader of the carpenters that had done work for Kakariko in the past. He was standing outside, looking _genuinely_ baleful in my direction. Naturally, I glared back, but continued on.

“He needs to rest after nearly crashing,” I said shortly, tipping my head a little to indicate the still somewhat dazed hero I was helping. “D'you mind?”

“Hmph. Him, fine, you, no.”

I shrugged, and ducked into the tent, ignoring Link's wordless protest.

“Hush,” I said quietly. “It's fine. You recover, I'll use the Shadow Medallion and do some recon work. See if you can find out what the bug up his butt is about. Maybe you can get on his good side.”

He looked unconvinced, but didn't protest when I helped him sit down on one of the brightly colored rugs that lined the tent floor, save for a shallow pit in the middle where a fire was set to be started after dark.

I exited the tent, then went and cared for the horses, pointedly leaving the saddles near a large pillar within the tent's view so that Link would know where things were when he was able to stand on his own. The horses found plenty of tough desert grass to eat, and were quite happy to be left to their own devices once I was done. I still spent extra time making sure they would have water as well.

I was stalling. I knew it then, and I can see it more clearly now. Nerves that had nothing to do with height and everything to do with nine years away from my people skittered up and down my spine as I made myself walk down the pass that would lead me to the place I had been born.

The compound had not changed much. It's not immediately visible from the entrance, but go up the stairs to the right, or around the long way, and there it was, tucked into the shelter of the mountain we called home.

I didn't do this openly, of course; that would have attracted more trouble than I wanted at the moment. But the Shadow Medallion's unique ability conferred a type of invisibility upon the invoker, and allowed me to explore cautiously. I quickly realized that there were only two or three of the older aunts in charge; the rest were all my age, give or take a few years in either direction, and there wasn't more than thirty of them all told within the compound.

The gate to the desert, unfortunately, was down, which nixed the idea of us just sliding on through. But in sneaking about—a process that had taken essentially the entire day—I had discovered the supplies of knock-out dust, and a plan had begun to germinate in my brain.

Link, to my surprise, was waiting at the entrance to the small canyon that would lead to the compound when I made my way out. Relief was open on his face when I lifted a hand, and he scampered forward a bit to catch my hands in his. It wasn't a tackle, and it wasn't _quite_ a hug, but he stood as close as possible with our hands between us, and his head landed on my shoulder.

It made me feel simultaneously adored and guilty.

“Sorry, sorry,” I said hastily, unsure on whether I should be trying to comfort him or just push him off. “I wanted to make sure that I knew how many of my cousins there were inside. I think I have an idea on how to get us through... what?”

“The... boss carpenter over there,” he nodded a little in the direction of the tent even as we ended up walking instead towards our horses and our things. “Mr. Mutoh. He says he wants to repair the bridge, but... but all his workers went to join the Gerudo.”

“....oh... um...”

Well, that certainly explained the men being held in the cells. It hadn't been _surprising_ to see them there, not really, but to my chagrin, I hadn't considered really _why_ they were there. After a minute I wilted a little and sighed.

“Yeah, they're in there. Males... aren't really _welcome_ in our... _the_ tribe. Not without a lot of skill. And while they can kind of do a good job as carpenters, without skill in diverse areas, they're not... well, they're not the kind of Hylians most of the Gerudo would think of setting up any sort of long-term relationship with.”

Link gave me an uncertain look, and I just shrugged a little uncomfortably.

“It's not the first time males have wanted to join,” I replied, answering the question he wasn't quite able to ask. “Most of the time they got imprisoned for a while, then tossed out on their asses. Generally not longer than a couple months at worst. We don't... have enough to make the holding of prisoners longer.”

“Are there... other reasons?”

“...when I was seven, some guy came in the middle of the night and tried to grab a couple of us kids. Don't ask me what he was thinking, I don't know. Thing is, we're trained from the time we can walk with horses, archery, and some knifework that's supposed to blossom into scimitar skills when we get taller. So he didn't get very far with them.” I hesitated, searching my memory, then shook my head a little. “But... people like that get introduced to the desert, or used as target practice by Nabooru, or one of the other elders.”

“Nabooru?”

“She's supposed to be our leader, the second in command to Ganondorf. When I was younger, I idolized her; she was the sort of thief I wanted to be,” I smiled ruefully, a little bitterly. “She never hurt anyone who wasn't looking for trouble... But from what I could gather, no one's heard from her in a while. She's supposedly out at the Desert Colossus, but what she could be doing out there for so long... I don't know.”

I sighed and managed to extract my hand from his so I could flop down cross-legged against the saddles, and study the darkening sky.

“And really, it's neither here nor there. That bridge _does_ need fixing. I'm guessing he asked you to find his men and get them out in return for taking shelter in his tent?”

Link nodded. I sighed.

“All right... Well, that blows my initial plan out of the water. Let's see...”

I frowned thoughtfully, absently tapping my fingers against my knees. After a moment, Link leaned against me, then hesitantly poked my shoulder.

“Rai?”

“Hmm?”

“...D'you... um... does Sheik not... like me?”

I blinked. Of all the questions he _could_ have asked, that was pretty far down on what I'd been expecting. More questions about my people, sure, about the defenses, about where the carpenters were, _sure_ , but Sheik's opinion? After a stunned moment, I laughed a little, and shook my head, surrendering to the inevitable.

“Sheik's _jealous_ ,” I informed him a little wryly. “I think it's a Hylian thing more than a Sheikah thing, though I could be wrong. His _shadow_ probably likes you just fine, but...”

“Jealous?” Link's confusion was so complete that I had to smile a little. “But... of what?”

“Us.”

That just made the confusion worse. I shook my head a little, and settled in to explain.

“You are both very precious people to me. And I am precious to both of you. Right?” Link nodded quickly, and leaned a little more firmly against me. “Now, from what I've witnessed, that's not uncommon in Hylian relationships; unrequited love happens more or less to everyone, regardless of who they're attracted to. Where his issues lie is in the fact that I will not choose one of you over the other to give my affection to.”

Blue eyes blinked up at me, and I ran a free hand over my hair, trying to figure out how to word it so that he might understand. In this one thing especially, he was still very much a child, and if I got too invested in it, I knew it would just confuse him.

“Gerudo hold things differently. We believe that we are free to love as we want and whom we want, and there's no shame in loving more than one person at the same time. There's all different kinds of love, of course, and the sexual side is more a means to an end than any grand gesture. I...”

I sighed a little, and drew one knee up to my chest.

“Sheik has saved my life more times than I can count, and has been there when you couldn't be. I love him as a friend, and if the situation wasn't so _dire_ , I'd probably see about getting at least one child from him, if he'd allow it.” I smiled a little sadly. “I love him as more than a friend, and I know he cares for me, though not how deep. Deep enough to matter, though.”

Link nodded a little against my shoulder, and when I glanced down he seemed a little sad.

“And you are kindness incarnate,” I smiled a little as he blinked in surprise. “You're affectionate, and sweet, even when it's me being utterly ridiculous. If you had grown up the natural way, believe me, I'd want your children too.”

He turned a very bright red, and I couldn't help laughing.

“Well, it's _true_.”

That just made him blush more, and hide his face a little against my shoulder. It was honestly an adorable reaction, and I couldn't help but drop a kiss onto the top of his head.

“Still such a youngling,” I smiled softly, then went back to trying to explain. “Sheik is not... territorial. And I am not a thing to be owned. He knows that, but he doesn't fully understand how I can hold romantic attachment to you both without it somehow causing problems. I.... love you both. For me, it is entirely that simple. I will put my life on the line for the sake of you, and him, and maybe once this mess is all behind us, we can make an effort at seeing what the future will bring.”

Love has never been a heavy word; love is one of those things that simply _is_ for me. Denying it, diluting it, never has made sense. But then, I have to admit, when I fall in love, I have this tendency to fall forever. It's why even now....

Never mind.

Link's blush took a bit to fade, and when it did, the face he turned up to me was pensive.

“I... want him to like me,” he said after a minute. “I... confusing as he is, I kind of like him?”

I chuckled a little.

“Well, if we meet him out in the Colossus, then you should tell him.”

“...and his shadow?”

I grimaced a little. I knew I shouldn't have mentioned it, but Link had every right to know as well. And yet...

“That's... Link, do you trust me?”

He blinked at me in surprise, then nodded quickly. I smiled faintly at his eagerness, then sighed a little and looked across the canyon.

“I can't explain about that yet, I'm afraid. Mostly because it's not really my secret to share. It's part of what makes Sheik so confusing sometimes, though, and I get the sense that soon everything will be revealed.”

He nodded after a minute, gingerly giving me a quick hug. I kissed his cheek, making him squeak a little, then popped to my feet and pulled out a Deku stick so I could draw him a map of the fortress that I had once called home.

“The carpenters are going to be in these rooms. There's guard patrols here, here and here, but I think I can distract them. I pilfered some sleepy-dust, but you'll have to use it sparingly... I only thought I'd have to knock out a handful of my cousins so I could get the gate lifted enough for us to slip through...”

“Wait, you're... you're...?”

I nodded a little.

“I'm the bait,” I said quietly. “I'm a missing Gerudo; technically my mother kidnapped me. Regardless of the fact that she probably saved my life, I'm hoping that they'll see my return as something to be celebrated, and not... well, anything else.”

“But-”

I shook my head a little.

“I need to do this, Link. All my life has been keeping my head down and running away. I was always afraid of what might happen to me if I was found, and really, it wouldn't be pleasant if Ganondorf _had._ But these are my cousins. If anyone would be happy to see me, happy to know I was still alive, it would be them. I have to take this chance.”

He didn't look too happy about the idea, and honestly, I couldn't blame him; I was in no way positive that I would be welcomed, but even if they ended up throwing me in the pit, I would still have provided enough of a distraction to allow Link to sneak into the compound.

The plan he finally agreed to had him accepting the Shadow Medallion as an aid to sneaking around unseen through the compound, and all of the packets of sleeping dust I had managed to grab from the open supplies. I had impressed upon him—after a talk that went from full dark until the moon rose over the canyon walls—that if he proved himself by getting all the carpenters out without getting caught, he might be offered a chance to join.

We are an all-female tribe, yes, but if a male is impressive enough—and he must be _highly_ impressive, I will admit—then he can be offered a tag of membership. Of course, most of the time he was then relegated to stud work; I knew I'd have to be quick to claim him before that happened. Mentioning it to him left him redder than a tomato again, but he managed to squeak out an agreement that I was the first to have claim on him in that way, since I was the one who found him.

It wasn't a foolproof plan, of course. There was still the chance that it could all go sideways. But it was enough of a plan that we could put it into action and hope for the best. After some deliberation—and the fact that the guards didn't actually change, just the people doing the guarding—we agreed that sleeping now and trying the next evening would be a good time.

Bedding down under familiar sights in the canyon made it hard for me to actually sleep. Eventually, Link rolled onto his side and faced me, then inched his bedroll slightly closer. I glanced at him, then stretched out an arm, which he took as an invite to get snuggling-closer, and his head ended up on my shoulder again. After a bit, one of his arms draped over my waist, the weight providing a bit of comfort.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

“For some definitions of okay.”

The hand on my side squeezed gently, and I sighed, leaning my head lightly against his.

“It'll be all right,” he said quietly. “Even if you get caught, I'll get you out. And then we'll go find the last temple, and the last Sage, and we'll go face Ganondorf, win, and it'll all turn out right.”

I smiled faintly, and kissed his forehead.

“You are adorably optimistic. Go to sleep.”

He fell quiet, to be sure, but his breathing was too irregular to convince me he was sleeping.

“...what?” I finally asked.

“It's... all right, isn't it? To... you said you... loved us both.”

“....dear, be more specific. Are you asking me if I think I'm right, or is there something else you're asking about? Because yes, I do think I'm right.”

That got a tiny chuckle out of him, and to my surprise he nuzzled a little, affectionately. I couldn't help smiling slightly, and nuzzled a little back, then waited patiently for him to find his words.

“I... want him to like me,” he said, repeating the words from earlier. “I... I don't know if it's because I want him to be my friend or... or if it's something else. I just...”

I smiled softly, and hugged him gently.

“Go to sleep,” I replied. “We'll find out eventually, one way or the other. All right?”

He sighed a little, then nodded. This time he did end up slowly dozing off, and I was not long in following suit.

It was the most peaceful night we'd had in a very long time.

 


	15. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerudo things

 Fourteen

 

When the sun came up, I almost didn't want to _get_ up. Staying there in the bedroll, snuggled very comfortably with Link, was definitely more to my taste, given the circumstances the day was libel to include.

Eventually though, I gave up and eased myself away from the still deeply sleeping hero—the goddesses themselves knew he needed as much rest as he could get, considering the effects of whatever horrors the Shadow Temple had conferred upon him ere _still_ in place—and went to check on the horses. Both horses were quite content to not be saddled, and to keep browsing the tall, tough grass that was their food this far out of Hyrule's lush fields.

With nothing better to do, I practiced with my blades, focusing on the short, sharp movements that such weapons required. For my opponents, I pictured—to the best of my abilities—my own fears. After a time I realized that Link was watching me, his expression concerned, though not afraid. I thought about offering to train with him, then dismissed the thought; he would be more concerned about hurting me, and to be fair, at the time the idea of sparring with him left me feeling cold as well.

As the sun approached the high point and the air in the canyon became scorching, the horses retreated to the shade, and Link, after some uncertainty, did the same. Me? I reveled in it. I stripped down as much as was polite and drank in the heat of the sun, the feel of the air. I didn't even care that I would probably end up burned—it had been so long since I'd last felt the true strength of the sun on my skin...

It's been a long time since.

I basked, as I so often did, in the heat. I went so far as to take my hair out of its braid and tie it up into a long tail that wouldn't have looked out of place in the harem of one of the earlier kings—long hair is a luxury, I admit, but I have grown fond of mine... I expect some day in the future cutting it will have appeal again.

In any case, I dredged up memories of my kin. Of our language, which I had not spoken in almost a decade, the faces of my cousins and aunts, some of whom I knew had to be at the compound. I wondered then if they were at the compound because they weren't suitable to ride in the raids Ganondorf had conducted on the rest of Hyrule. Were they not loyal enough? Was that why the bridge had been destroyed?

The tethers to most of the bridge _had_ been cut on the Gerudo side of the canyon, so it wasn't too far-fetched of an idea. The idea that my cousins and aunts might _not_ be on Ganondorf's side was a hope that was too painful to touch, so I shied away from the thought before I decided to cling to it. I had learned the hope for the best, but plan for the worst.

In this case, 'worst' was tantamount to my death.

In a way, that was almost comforting; it's one thing to skulk about because it's the only way to live, but I had been running and hiding for so _long_ at that point that finally doing something overt—and no, helping Link cleanse the Temples of their taint doesn't actually count because after the first, Ganondorf paid us no mind at all. It felt, if anything, like cleaning up the messes I had been too weak to handle—was intensely cathartic.

It was also heavily entwined with nerves; I wanted to be welcomed back, even though I would not be staying. _Could not_ stay, in point of fact. It was just not an option.

The day seemed to pass with almost glacial slowness, but eventually the sun descended enough that long shadows stretched throughout the canyon. I saddled up my horse and mounted, then pulled Link up behind me. I had fashioned a hood out of my typical hair covering; the idea was that _I_ was to draw the attention, naturally, and then Link would slip off and into the compound while everyone was trying to figure out what to do with me.

As far as rudimentary plans go, that part went off without a hitch; Two of the guards came rushing up when I rode in—Link bouncing uncomfortable along at my back, hidden by the power of the Shadow Medallion—their glaives pointed more at me than the horse. Link silently slid off the back, and I leaned casually on the rim of my saddle, studying what I could see of the faces of my cousins.

“Who are you?!” the one on the left—Sodanya, I thought—demanded. “What do you want here?”

“I'd heard that the Gerudo were open to all women,” I replied mildly. “I came seeking a side I do not know.”

“...I know your voice,” the one on the right said after a long minute. My aunt, Arethya. “Remove your hood, girl, and show your face then if you would claim kinship.”

“I'd think the color of my skin would be enough proof,” I said dryly, even as I pushed the hood back, freeing my hair and letting what sunlight remained make the coloration flare. “Hello, Aunt Artheya.”

Her jaw _dropped_. It was the most satisfying expression of shock I'd even seen. My cousin just looked confused, as thought she ought to know me but didn't. I nodded politely to her, and after a moment the polearms were pulled back.

“Sovye's little girl has returned to us?” Artheya said quietly, as if she was unable to believe her eyes.

I just shrugged a little, and offered a slight smile.

“Assuming no one agitates for my expulsion, considering how long I've been gone.”

By all technical rights, my mother had kidnapped me. I had gambled on the idea that they would consider this a homecoming for me. My luck, apparently, was working in the way I'd meant for it to, because after a moment my aunt reached up and smacked my leg lightly.

“Get down off that horse and give me a hug,” she ordered.

I laughed; couldn't help myself. And after a moment more, I obeyed. My aunt swept me up into a hug so tight I had trouble breathing for a moment... though that was in part due to the tears I could feel closing my own throat.

“Come, we must gather the others and celebrate the return of one who was lost.”

I hoped, with everything in me, that this didn't mean crowding into the compound; to my great fortune, it did not. Instead, everyone who was free and able to flowed up in jubilation to the horseback archery range. A lost child had returned.

In truth, that part of the plan worked far better than either of us had hoped.

Everyone chattered at once, a deluge of Gerudo words that I had all but fallen out of practice with—save the useful ones that could be twisted into swears, because yes, I am that sort of person—and had to actively work at to understand. It didn't seem to slow their talk much;they just laughed at me, and I was passed around for exuberant hugs the way one might pass around a long lost toy; with about as much say in the manner.

In a word, it was wonderful. If I hadn't come with the intent of leaving, I'm fairly sure I never would have.

I was, then, not enamored of the life I had been forced to lead. My time with the Zora and the Gorons had both been the best for me as a person who was _used_ to being surrounded by family. My years alone in the Castle Town, among the Kokiri, and that long, lonely year on the ranch were some of the worst. I was not, then, built as I am now, to handle long stretches of solitude.

The gathering, the celebration—for that was indeed what it became, even if I only remembered a handful of words and face—the whirl of faces, voices, of kin...

I do not have the words to describe how much this memory both hurts and heals. I will not try.

It was interrupted, of course, by Link some time later, after he'd been given his membership. He was practically towed into the festivities by Aveil, Nabooru's second, and all but tossed at me.

“He says he's yours,” she said, her wide grin a bit at odds with the slight sharpness of her tone.

Link looked rather.... mussed, but was quick to scramble up, all but hiding in my shadow, his hands wrapping around my upper arm. He was trembling a little, and his grip was tight. I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew what she'd tried.

“...you scared him,” I said, frowning at her. “That's not nice.”

She only laughed.

“I was trying to be affectionate~ Haven't you trained him yet?”

I grimaced, glad that we were speaking Gerudo, not Hylian. He really didn't need to hear himself talked about as though he were a thing, and _I_ certainly didn't like the fact that they would willingly treat him as one if given half the chance.

“I'm going slow,” I said finally. “I like him better when he's not afraid.”

There was a general laugh for that, and Aveil shrugged, shaking her head.

“All right, all right. Train him at your own pace.”

She joined the mingling revelry, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief, and covered Link's trembling hands with mine.

“Easy,” I whispered, slipping back into Hylian. “They won't touch you now.”

“She wanted... she tried...”

“Shhh... You're safe. You're off-limits now. You're safe.”

To be fair, I wasn't entirely sure of that, so the fact that he stayed close—and attached to my hand if not my arm—didn't bother me in the slightest. Fires were lit as full darkness came, food and drink were shared, and music was played. There was even dancing, though I admit, I barely recalled the childhood dances, never mind knowing the steps to the ones I was now old enough to watch.

Link stuck firmly to my side, but even he managed to relax a little with food and music to distract him. And if some of my kin gave him appreciative looks, well, they respected the facade of a claim I held, and didn't do more than look.

The night passed with a softness I had not expected. The celebration ran down around the time the moon hit zenith, and everyone who didn't have a watch drifted towards their beds. My horse and Epona were both stabled with the other horses, and seemed only a little wary of the change; this lasted until they were both groomed to gleaming and given hay, at which point the horses seemed perfectly content to stay put.

Getting private space for us was more of a challenge; my mother's room had been given to another mother and child in her absence and mine, which was hardly surprising. Most of my kin lived in shared spaces, a thing that began at the age of ten, and if not for Link, I would undoubtedly have gone there to be reintroduced to the level of gossip that was simply part of my people.

Link, for his part, almost volunteered to stay in the stables. I stepped on his foot to make sure he stayed quiet, and after some negotiations we were shown to a small room that had, at one point, belonged to Nabooru before she had decided to leave for the Desert Colossus.

With a relieved sigh I closed the door at my cousin's back, then sank down against the wood. Link remained uncertainly standing, eyeing the room's sole bed. It was not terribly big, and by this point I probably could have—would have—slept on the stone. _Without_ my bedding.

“Go ahead,” I said wearily. “Get some rest.”

Instead, after disarming, he came and sat next to me. Snuggled, to be more accurate. I didn't have the heart, or the energy, to push him off.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Still a little on edge,” I admitted after a minute. “I don't think I can be fully convinced of the safety of being here. Even if the bridge is broken, even if they're all happy to see me, I still think that the other shoe might drop, and suddenly we'll be under attack and fighting to leave.”

“And the bridge won't be broken forever,” he added quietly. “Not with those four carpenters and their boss in the canyon.”

I grimaced; I had completely forgotten about that point. Theoretically, by the time we were done at the Colossus—assuming we got there in the first place—the bridge would be repaired, and it would be a short, safe ride back to Hyrule instead of a somewhat hair-raising jump.

“Rai?”

“Mmn?”

“Umm... your uh.... cousin....”

I sighed a little.

“That would be why I had to get you to agree to say those words,” I said with a grimace. “Even if they aren't the whole truth of the matter. You're still...”

I ran a hand over my face, and shook my head.

“You have a seventeen year old body,” I finally continued. “But as mature as you _act_ , you don't have a seventeen year old _mind_. And there is a difference. And.... it's probably selfish of me, but I just... I want you to maintain what innocence and purity you can. Your heart won't remain unscathed, and I know the Shadow Temple did sincere damage to your mind.... but in some small way, I want you to retain that glimmer of hope and kindness.... It give me strength.”

It was selfish of me, and I knew it. Link could not stay as a child forever, and even what little I was doing to slow the process would never be enough. He had killed creatures, and saved friends, he had been terrified by what horrors were contained within the Shadow Temple. But in this one, small, seemingly insignificant thing, I could not help but want to protect what little was left.

I was surprised when he kissed me. Unexpected was the right word, and I reacted without thinking, pushing him back, away from me. I did this, perhaps a bit harder than was necessary. He ended up half on his back as I scooted across the floor, putting my own back against the rough stone of the mountain overhead.

There was only a little moonlight in that room; Navi had curled up to sleep in Link's hat, and he had removed that carefully when he'd disarmed, laying it gingerly on the small, round table under the open window.

I will not deny how much I wanted. But the shock of the kiss had been unexpected, and almost unpleasant. I wanted, yes. Perhaps even needed. If he'd wanted to for himself, it wouldn't have been so conflicting. The idea that was foremost in my mind, however, was that he was trying to offer physical comfort _for me_ , regardless of what his own desires might be.

It was abhorrent, and I _would not_ condone it.

Link pushed himself back into a sitting position, and gave me a completely heartbroken look. He's always been very good at looking like the accidentally kicked puppy. I could not hold his gaze and looked away, folding in on myself.

“Don't,” I said sharply, finding ire in place of unease. “Don't you dare, boy. Not for me, you hear me? _Not for me_.”

I understand, now, the feelings that were boiling in me. When I love, I love fiercely, and hold onto that feeling with all that I have. Memories of love grant me comfort in difficult times. But I often struggle to allow myself to recognize the reality of that love, and the fact that others can, and do, love me in return.

I felt, in that moment, unworthy of his heart. I had always felt thus in some small way, but the affection he gave me had not ventures so far into the realm of the purely physical, and I have an easier time, amusingly enough, accepting romantic gestures than I do sexual ones. It makes me a very _odd_ Gerudo.

Link, to his credit, only paused for a moment before he continued. He was trusting me to not over-react—something I had, admittedly, already done, so I'm not entirely sure as to _why_ he considered pressing his luck a good idea—and as much as I wanted him to stay _right there, damnit_ , I was singularly unwilling to cause him physical harm.

I was not, however, willing to surrender to the inevitable. I got to my feet, my hands brushing against the stone. I was taller than he was, and at need, could have easily held him back. I didn't know, then, if I was relieved or disappointed when he stood, but stopped just out of arm's reach.

“Can't I want it?” he asked quietly, his voice somewhat forlorn.

“Do you even understand what it is you want?” I retorted.

He grimaced a little, then sighed.

“I just thought... I mean...”

“Link.” He looked up at me, his expression uncertain. “If you can honestly say that you want it because it's your pure, earnest desire, that's one thing. But if you want it just because you think it will make me happy, that's...”

I sighed, and leaned back against the wall, folding my arms across my chest.

“I don't want that. All right?”

He hesitantly moved a step closer, then stopped.

“And... and if I do say that I want it?” he asked hesitantly.

“Well, first off, what is it that you think you _want?_ ”

That stopped him. I sighed again, this time a faintly frustrated sound, and decided to not move. I was fairly sure that if I did approach him, I'd want to either smack or strangle him, and those wouldn't be very good things to do.

Even if you love someone, they can, on occasion, make you reconsider. By not informing either myself or Link what he would go through in the Shadow Temple, Sheik had weathered through that particular trial. As much as I wanted to believe Link, to go far in that moment, I was not willing to do so unless he actually understood what it was he was saying.

He stood there, uncertain and hesitant. After several minutes more, I reluctantly pushed off the wall and stepped closer. He tensed—I could hardly blame him—but stood his ground.

Now. Remember. I was not a traditional Gerudo in any sense of the word. I will say that I knew more about love, sex, and sexuality when I was eight than most Hylians I had watched in the Market. I was more open to the idea of things happening. But I was not... _practiced_ the way some of my cousins were. I was, in my own fashion, just as inexperienced as Link.

I kissed him. Very soft. Very chaste. I tasted the courage, and the spark, but I did not push. After what seemed like an eternity, but was, in fact, only a bare breath, I moved to step back.

Link's hands caught my wrists. Not hard, not demanding, but I stopped anyways. His eyes were hard to see, standing so close, but I could feel him tremble.

“...help me... to understand,” he said finally, his voice a quiet plea. “Raiha... I... Please?”

I closed my eyes and leaned forward, gently touching my forehead to his.

“Only if you promise to tell me to stop if something happens you don't feel ready for.”

He swallowed hard, then nodded. This time,when I stepped back, he did not stop me.

What happened that night is a private, personal memory. It has no bearing on either the story or its outcome, and as such, I will keep it within me, and not confer it to these pages.

When morning arrived, it did so without much fanfare. The air warmed, and moved, and those who had day watch moved with it. The sounds of women sparring was what woke me eventually, and for a moment I was eight again, curled up with my mother before we were to start the day.

The thought swiftly faded, and I instead allowed myself a moment to savor what had happened before I gently moved the arm draped around my waist, pulled on my discarded clothing, and went to see about getting some breakfast. It took a bit of doing; fielding the good-natured teasing from family about what, to their minds, _must_ have happened between us without actually giving a direct answer was a bit on the tricky side. Getting the things we would need so we could _leave_ was also not easy.

By the time I made it back, I was annoyed, and Link was awake. When I managed to hip check the door closed again he was mostly dressed, and had chosen to wear the Goron tunic to help alleviate the heat. He also looked... steadier. As though what we had done had settled something in him. The somewhat shy smile he gave me helped to fade the irritation, and I set the tray of food on the small table, giving him a faint smile in return.

“Come on, eat up. We've still got at least half a desert to cross.”

He nodded, and as he ate, I laid out the extra items I had managed to procure with minimal fuss. I had simply told my aunts that I had news only for Nabooru, and everyone knew Nabooru's headquarters were in our temple, across the Haunted Wastes. They hadn't of course, wanted me to go—or to take Link with me—but they also hadn't put up much of a fuss. So I had managed to acquire clothes that would help deflect the sand that would, I knew, get _everywhere_.

“What are all these things for?”

I glanced up at Link, who was peering at the clothes and facemasks curiously.

“Protection,” I replied. “There's a constant high wind out on the desert, and it can go from dry desert wind to deadly sandstorm in less than a minute. The masks will keep the sand out of our eyes, and _theoretically_ these cloaks should help do the same. We'll still end up with sand in uncomfortable places, but hopefully it won't be as bad.”

“Won't we get too hot? What about water?”

I chuckled a little, and leaned back on my heels.

“If we didn't have Ruto's Water Medallion, I'd be a bit worried on that front, but I think we'll be fine. As for heat, well, you're wearing the Goron tunic. Honestly? You ought to be fine. If it cuts the smothering heat of the volcano, the arid heat of the desert shouldn't be that bad.”

The look he slanted me had me grinning. After a moment, he smiled too.

“You're going to be the one to get the gate open, though,” I continued, pulling the long coat over my head. “The gate guard is at the top of said gate.”

“Um... what if... won't she..?”

“I've made it clear that if they aren't _polite_ , I will cause damage,” I said mildly. “While I may not have the training of my people, what I _do_ have would allow me to cause someone severe harm.”

I got to my feet and wrapped the long scarf around my head and shoulders, forming a protective covering, then handed Link the other set. My clothes were made for the Gerudo shape, but Link, with his broader shoulders—not to mention the Master Sword over his shoulder—had to make do with a long cloak instead.

“You would, uh...”

I gave him a sassy smile that turned to a grin when he blushed.

“If you don't want their attention, I will bring down all _manner_ of trouble,” I informed him. “It is, of course, your choice.”

He looked somewhere between grateful and embarrassed, and I couldn't help but laugh a little, patting his shoulder.

“Come on.”

“The horses?”

“We'll get them before we leave.”

I had considered leaving them behind, but a test of what all I could get through the Forest Medallion had proved that grass and hay would be easily provided. They would also make the journey faster; my aunts had told me that it would be at least two weeks on foot. Worse if we ended up stuck in a storm.

Collecting the horses was easy, getting out into the desert took a bit of persuading—and only slightly ingenuine threats shouted up at the gate guard when Link looked over the edge at me—but we passed beyond the compound as the sun reached zenith.

There was sand as far as the eye could see, the hot desert winds scouring little curls in the dunes. There were also poles planted in the grounds, with rippling red cloth attached; path markers that would show us the way.

A harsh sandstorm caught us on the third day in, descending faster than we could ride. Link and Epona practically vanished, despite not being more than three feet away, and I reached out blindly, groping about in the sand for his hand, for his leg, hells, even for Epona's mane.

But there was nothing. The sandstorm separated us with ruthless efficiency, and I eventually forced myself to halt my horse and lay her down for even a makeshift shelter. It was that or have us both stripped down and likely killed by the storm itself.

When the winds finally died, we were half buried, and far off course. I could, just barely, see a stone station in the distance, and after some swearing and pacing—and a lot of shaking to remove the worst of the sand—I headed for it, and hoped Link would do the same.

The halfway home—for that's what it was—was unmanned, and to be frank, falling apart. Half the roof was missing, and sand was strewn in heavy piles all around the interior. Of the jars that had been there to preserve water and food, over half of them were shattered and empty. Worse, to my mind, there was no sign of Link or Epona.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It almost made the cut, buuuuut... private character is private. Ah well.


	16. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions

 Fifteen

 

It's common knowledge that, when you get separated from someone, you should stay put because if the both of you wander around, you're more likely to miss one another. I didn't _want_ to stay put; I had all the medallions, which meant I had the renewable resources, and Link did not. Yes, we had put water into canteens, and he had _some_ food, but not enough to last him the remainder of the trip to the Desert Colossus. Not even, really, enough to last him the next two days.

So I ranged as far as I dared. I called for him. I tried to track him. I tried to find my way back to where the winds had closed us off from one another, sweeping sand so densely between us that I had lost sight almost instantly.

I didn't realize at the time that if I had calmed down and focused on my Triforce imprint, finding him would have been easy. It's one of my gifts; if a person has a Triforce piece, I _can_ find them. I could do it then, though I didn't know it, and I can do it now, with a much greater degree of accuracy, and less pain.

For three days I did this, each night returning to the halfway house. It was a struggle to decide if I should remain or if I should continue on; if there was a chance he could find his way to where I was, I wanted to be there for him.

In the end, rational thought prevailed, but it was a hard-won fight. I repaired what I could of the jars and filled them, then chipped out a message along the wall over them. If he made it to the waystation, he would know where to find me.

Leaving was hard. Leaving and not knowing where he was, where he would be, if he was even alive... It was one of the hardest things I'd done at the time. Mostly because it was so... immediate. There had been little I could do to save the Zora or the Gorons except wait; I'd had neither the strength nor the ability.

But I hated myself for losing track of Link so easily. I could only hope that he was alive.

Crossing the Haunted Wastes is no simple task, even for a Gerudo. Another name for our desert, beyond the obvious ones, is the Desert of Illusion. The heat and the magic in the sands will often combine into realistic mirages, pulled from the walker's memories. It's easier on children, oddly enough, perhaps because as a child, fears are still nebulous. No one likes being hungry or hurt, but the worst I had feared before being taken from the compound was that a quicksand monster would swallow me up if I entered the desert too soon.

It was not a pleasant trip. Nor was being all but ambushed by a second sandstorm that concealed a trio of very unpleasant poes. The first one spooked my horse, who proceeded to throw me before running off into the storm and depriving me of a mount; it was, annoyingly, the last I saw of that horse too. Perhaps fortunately for me, I didn't have to explain to Malon that I lost her...

But that is getting too far ahead.

The fight, if you can call it that, was a pure pain in the ass. They were not illusory poes—they had proved this by scaring the horse—and the flying sands made it hard to catch glimpses of their lanterns. It was those lanterns I had learned to target at that; shatter one and the poe generally faded away as well.

I managed to get the one. _Only_ the one. I don't know which of them hit me from behind. I know it hurt. I know I was entirely out of patience at that point, and did something... well, I suppose it could be considered drastic, but really, it wasn't any worse than what I'd done before.

I touched the Fire Medallion, and cast Din's Fire.

If I were still in that timeline, I would love to examine the crater. Because there certainly was one. I stood in the middle of it, out of patience and out of breath. The two poes were nowhere to be found, and to my surprise, the reverberation of what I'd done seemed to cancel out the sandstorm in its entirety.

The crater I didn't take time to examine was still rather swiftly buried under the shifting of the sands, and I had to scramble to keep on top of it; being buried alive was not my idea of a good time. I was able to watch the sands swallow the last of it up, and I wondered then what other people might make of it.

I admit, I felt rather chagrined, but also... better. As though most of my panic and anger, my negative emotions, had been thrown into the sands. I was not free of them, no; I still worried about Link, about my horse, and about Sheik, but they were not as strong as they had been. I looked around, seeking the trail marker, and began walking.

A part of me wondered at the fact that the sandstorm had simply dissipated; at the time I wasn't aware that such storms were occasionally as much magic as natural. As I am now, I can't help but wonder at how much backlash I gave to those two old witches. It is, on a whole, extremely satisfying. A bit petty, perhaps, but I have earned the right to be a little petty.

The Desert Colossus, when I reached it two days later, was not deserted. Epona was hitched to a tree near the small oasis, and I could hear, very faintly, the sounds of a harp and an ocarina. Tired, dirty, and practically _made_ of brittle emotions at that point, I dragged my weary feet out of the sand and ran in the direction of the music.

My boys—and they were both mine in differing ways, so please excuse the term—weren't playing any teleportation song that I recognized; it seemed to be music for the fun of it. They both looked up, and the two instruments—the Ocarina of Time and the Harp of the Goddess—were dropped into the sand.

It was not really a graceful hug. The three of us collided, and I flung my arms around the both of them, holding on for everything I was worth. In turn, I almost had the breath squeezed out of me by two sets of arms, and Nayru bless me, they weren't even fighting about where they put them. I wanted to kiss both of them, but I settled instead for pressing my face first into Link's broad shoulder, then into Sheik's more slender one. And it _was_ Sheik; if nothing else, his reaction, and the tight grip he had on my shirt, proved that.

Link, when I managed to pull back a little, was crying. To be fair, so was I. Sheik was, honestly, the most calm of the three of us, and he chuckled a little, freeing a hand to wipe the tears from both our faces. The touch, so gentle, so precise, helped, and it didn't take me too long to regain my calm. Link took a bit longer, but eventually we stood, dry-eyed, in a three-way embrace.

“You're late,” Sheik said after a minute.

I blinked. Looked at him. Looked at Link, who had eyes that were still tear-bright. Then laughed, and disentangled myself from the two of them so I could give Sheik a shove. He moved with it, his own smile easy to make out in the bright sunlight, and sand puffed up in his wake as he then _cheated_ , and moved out of the way with the Sheikah shadow-stepping ability.

Naturally, I went face first into the sand, and came up spitting and swearing. Link laughed until I swept his feet out from under him.

We played, as children play, until the sun went down, at which point we retreated into the canvas shelter that Sheik had clearly set up to one side of the Spirit Temple. There were a handful of rugs coated in a fine layer of sand, and shortly after we were in, the fire was going, staving off the chill that would come down as the night air rapidly cooled.

Link sprawled on the rug nearest the fire, and I had to grin; it seemed he'd been worried about the wrong temperature.

“What _did_ take you so long?” Sheik asked. “Link has been here for three days.”

“I found a waystation,” I replied, stretching out on a rug and cheerfully turning Link's back into my pillow. “I thought if I stayed put, maybe he'd come to me.”

“S-sorry,” Link said, squirming a little under me. “I didn't...”

“No, it's probably for the best that you _did_ push on,” I said, shifting up just enough to let him move into a more comfortable position before I more or less sat on him again. “I have the Medallions, so even though I lost my horse, my life was never really in danger.”

“Wasn't it?” Sheik raised an eyebrow. “We both sensed that spell.”

I made a face at him, and he chuckled slightly.

“I got set upon by poes, and I kind of lost my temper,” I huffed. “They came with a sandstorm, so that didn't help much either, and I still have a knot on the back of my head from where the one clobbered me!”

I was playing up the petulant act on purpose, and Sheik gave me a smile that was more easily seen thanks to him pulling down his collar.

“You were both waiting for me, huh?”

“Of course we were,” Link said, glancing over his shoulder at me in a mix of surprise and concern. “You're important.”

I am not important to the pattern; the pattern that I still struggle to break will continue with or without my interference until such time as I _can_ break it. What I am—what I was at the time—is important to specific individuals _within_ the pattern.

In this case, they had considered my somewhat less than helpful help to be something worth waiting for.

It was surprising. And touching.

We slept that night in a tangle of limbs; Link was feeling his insecurity, it seemed, and had more or less wrapped himself around the arm he chose to use as a pillow. Sheik probably wouldn't have been involved at all if I hadn't insistently grabbed him with my free arm to make him stay. I am not sure if he was humoring me, himself, or both, but he stayed, and as often happens when people sleep in close proximity, limbs get draped over one another.

It remains one of the kinder memories I've kept.

We untangled at dawn, and went to inspect the Temple. We could get into what looked like a receiving room, a tablet on either side of a set of stairs, but no farther; a great monolith of stone blocked the way further in, and not even the three of us pushing in unison could shift it.

“...that would be the _other_ reason we waited,” Sheik said once we had regained our breath. “It seems we are at an unwelcome impasse.”

I nodded a little in resigned irritation, and went to examine the two tablets instead of throwing a punch at the frustratingly immoveable object.

The tablets were in old Geldma, the language that preceded what I knew then. As children, it's the one we learn to write in first, our own following once we've proven mastery of the tongue that birthed ours, metaphorically speaking. It's how we hung on to the ancient knowledge, even though few maintained it after their childhood years.

I read one, frowned, then read it again. Then a third time, checking to make sure I hadn't mistranslated, because it _had_ been a long time since I had seen the symbols. I stared at the tablet for several long, silent minutes, and jumped a foot when Sheik discreetly tapped my shoulder. Fortunately for me, he'd trained me and knew I would come around with a weapon in hand; he had one of his own to counter.

“What does it say?” he asked, once the brief meeting of blades had ended.

“It...” I lowered the throwing knife, and looked back up at the slab. “It doesn't make sense.”

“No?”

Link came over to join us, and after a minute I reached up to touch the tablet.

“It.... it says that if you want to return to the future, you need the power of silver from the past,” I finally said, more confused than anything else. “Just much more... elaborately.”

“What about the other one?” Sheik asked.

Obligingly I went to look. Again, I read the lines three separate times to make sure I was getting it right, and distilled it down to the most basic idea.

“To visit the past, return here with a child's purity...more or less.”

Link made a faint sound that I identified after a moment as annoyed, and he stood closer to me, as if unwilling to be separated again. Given that we had only just been reunited, I understood, but it wasn't that which bothered me.

“How would you be able to get in as a child?” I murmured, ignoring the second sound of dissent that Link made. “The bridge was whole then, but it was guarded. I don't even know how my mother got _me_ across, let alone herself.”

“Past and future,” Sheik said after a moment, giving Link a significant look. “The Master Sword is a ship that can be sailed up and down through time's river. The port for that ship is in the Temple of Time.”

Link's expression took on a rather surprising amount of stubborn rebellion. He crossed his arms over his chest, and planted his feet.

“You are the _only one_ of the three of us who can travel through this flow,” Sheik pointed out coolly. “If we are to proceed, you must go back those seven years, and find what it is you're meant to find. Otherwise, we will make no progress and Ganondorf will continue to rule.”

“He's right,” I added. “You did this before after what happened in Kakariko. I was injured then. Why is this any different?”

Link looked down at the sandstone beneath his boots, and didn't answer. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Link, love, we're on a deadline here. _I_ can feel it, even if you can't. The mission that you agreed to accept, and that I did when I started tagging along, was that we would waken the Sages, and through them, find some way of fixing this mess, and if you have to go back in time again to do it, then _do it_ , so that you can return here faster!”

I was not in a particularly charitable mood, to be honest. I was glad to see them. I was glad to have them both at my side. But there was a looming, a pressure; we were running out of breathing room, and I knew it. It didn't help that something within the walls of the Temple was making my skin itch, and sending ice up and down my spine. Something was _wrong_ with the place that was supposed to be our most holy, and even if I didn't know what, I knew that much.

I was tempted, heavily, to kick him. I refrained by sheer force of will, and gave him a sharp stare instead. It didn't take long for him to wilt, and he hung his head, dropping his arms reluctantly. Sheik made a faint sound that I registered as amusement, though when I turned to give _him_ a sharp stare, he looked appropriately sober. The ass.

“The Requiem of Spirit will guide a child back to the desert,” he said quietly.

The song...

I speak... write, very little about the transportation songs. It's hard to fully explain them without the magic and the performance of them. At best I can describe to you the notes, and the way it makes me feel. I didn't even _know_ the Nocturne of Shadow.

The Requiem of Spirit is a solemn song; there's nothing in it that resembles the gaiety that can be found among the songs typical of my people. Slow, with a sens of sorrow in the notes... And yet at the end of it, there's also that subtle uplift of emotions. That speaks silently of hope that is not gone.

Of all the songs, and yes, I did learn the Nocturne of Shadow, and the Prelude of Light eventually—much to my regret in the former because I then ended _up_ in the graveyard and that was not a fun experience—the Requiem of Spirit is the one that still sings the most to me personally. Hope is delicate and fragile, and can be buried so easily under exhaustion and weight of duty, but it is very, _very_ difficult to fully kill.

It took a few tries for Link to master it, mostly because he wasn't actually _trying_ until I finally did kick him. Not a hard kick, but a pointed one. I was of the opinion that if he had to go, he had to go quickly so that he could soon return. He was _less_ inclined in that direction but eventually he did warp away, and Sheik and I were left to ourselves.

“...the two of you seem to have come to some understanding,” I said after a long minute, looking out over the hot desert sands.

“He is earnest,” Sheik replied, stepping close to me. “Much like a puppy. I find it difficult to maintain negative emotions regarding him.”

I glanced at him, and raised an eyebrow.

“You realize saying it like that just makes me want to know what happened when I wasn't here to play buffer,” I said dryly.

He glanced up at me and smiled a little. It was his 'I'm being mysterious on purpose' smile, and I lightly smacked his arm for it. That just made him chuckle.

“Yes, we have come to an understanding. He said a few things that I... am uncertain about, but as you have said,I need to have a more open mind.”

“Did I say that?” I asked, feigning innocence.

“In much less polite terms, yes.”

I just snickered, and allowed myself a moment to feel smug. We stood there in the blinding sunlight for several silent minutes as I shook off the residue of whatever was _wrong_ with the Temple, then headed back in the direction of the small oasis and the tent.

“Are you feeling better now?” he asked after a minute.

“More reassured that you two aren't going to be glaring daggers at one another or trying something stupid like starting a fight,” I replied, absently rolling one shoulder. “I would have to smack you both for that one.”

He snorted a little, no doubt not really believing me. I, on the other hand, was quite serious. If they _had_ been so stupid, I would have smacked them both, and then possibly used the Water Medallion so that they could cool off.

“That's not what I meant, but I'll remember that,” he said dryly. “What was bothering you in there?”

I stopped at the edge of the oasis and elected to kick off my shoes and go wading. I would have gone swimming but at the deepest point I came only to my thighs. Good for bathing, sort of, but not for swimming. There was a small spring that was feeding water to the pool, and it was simultaneously warm enough and cool enough to feel refreshing.

“Don't know,” I said after a few minutes of content splashing about. “Something's weird in there, though. Not as bad as the graveyard behind Kakariko, but... similar.”

Sheik looked over his shoulder at the temple, then sighed a little.

“I suppose this won't be easy, then.”

“Well, no. It's not like any of the temples have _been_ easy,” I said a little sourly. “Booby traps, enemies, things trying to flatten us, making friends with walls....”

I saw him wince a little out of the corner of my eye, and felt perhaps vindictively pleased for a moment. But only for that moment; it wasn't _his_ fault that he was stuck in the observer's platform, and it wasn't fair to me to be upset with him because of his shadow. Zelda had plainly been kept in the dark as to what our relationship was, and expecting her to act as Sheik had was just silly.

“Are you going to be shadowing us further?”

Sheik sighed a little, and nodded reluctantly.

“Where I go,my shadow will follow, and it is not yet time for the shadow to come to light,” he sighed. “I would that I could do more...”

“...well, for the moment, why don't you join me?” I said, offering a hand to him from where I stood in the water. “We can just... have fun.”

He looked at me for a long moment. I stared back, and kept my hand outstretched, offering him the same that I had offered Link, just with less... uncertainty. Sheik, like me, had grown into himself. He had not skipped seven years of experiences; he had spent them, more or less, with me. We had learned and grown together.

After what felt like an eternity, he nodded, and came to join me in the water.


	17. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Spirit Temple

Sixteen

 

It took Link three days to return to the desert—during which I found a very unique spell thanks to Sheik knowing of a fairy fountain hidden in the Colossus—and when he did, he had quite the story to tell.

He had met Nabooru, idling in the outer area of the temple, the same area we would have to pass through to reach the temple's heart. While initially suspicious of him, she had warmed considerably when he'd blurted out just how much he'd like to kick Ganondorf's teeth in, and enlisted his help in finding an old Gerudo treasure that would allow her to get into the right side of the temple to get the keys to allow her into the _middle_ part.

As it turned out, the keys were the only way through, unless one is personally brought there by Koume and Kotake, who could simply use magic to open the wall. It implied that the stone monolith had been there for a good long while at that, which was annoying, but not entirely unexpected. Nabooru had claimed that she wanted to liberate the girls who were held there, and then steal as much of the treasure as she could to further throw the plans into chaos.

It was slightly vindicating to realize that my admiration for Nabooru had been well-placed.

Link had been able to slide through a hole in the wall that had since been bricked over, and had snuck around the left side of the temple—though he called it a palace, and I was starting to think he might not be wrong. He plainly omitted some of what he'd seen, judging by the shade of crimson his face turned, and a brief stutter of embarrassment, but I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to ask; Nabooru's desire to liberate the girls reminded me of my own mother's desire to ensure that I never went with Koume and Kotake.

It made me uneasy at best. To cleanse the temple—or to at least try—we would no doubt have to fight the two oldest, most powerful sorceresses, and that knowledge, combined with my mother's letter from so long ago...

While Link had found the treasure—he handed a pair of silver-backed gauntlets to me, and I accepted them reflexively before I realized what I was doing—he'd intended to give them to Nabooru, like he'd promised. Nabooru, unfortunately, had been caught idling by the twin witches, and while she had managed to evade them long enough to make it outside, she had not, in the end, escaped. Link had barely escaped them himself, warping away with moments to spare before the two witches' spells had impacted him.

I frowned thoughtfully, idly shifting the gauntlets from hand to hand as I thought.

“She's not _dead_ ,” I said finally, once Link's story had wound to a close. “There's still plenty of word that she's roaming around, doing Ganondorf's dirty work. Hells, some of the rumors from Kakariko suggested she's been known to drop in on tribute day, or even before, just to frighten people, and make sure they weren't holding anything back.”

“That implies nothing,” Sheik pointed out. “A skilled person could imitate her, or even magic could be used to simulate her form, including a one-way tactile experience.”

“They could imitate her to people that _aren't_ Gerudo, but we're not identical!” I shot back, slightly miffed at the implication. “We are more than familiar enough to one another out of long necessity; we _know_ an imposter.”

Sheik held up his hands slightly, attempting a placating gesture.

“That is not ...” he paused, then shook his head a little. “No, you are right, my apologies. You know your people best. That does not rule out a magical construction of some kind, or something more limited in scope.”

After a moment I nodded a little. It was true, ruling out an imposter didn't actually do much.

“You _will_ be careful?” he said in a very pointed way.

Link snorted a bit, amused, as I stuck out my tongue.

“You could fuss less and tag along more,” I retorted, keeping my tone light. “Now, what did you want me to do with these, Link?”

Sheik likely made a face in return, but I ignored it as I held up the gloves slightly. Link looked a little sheepish.

“They... they're Gerudo,” he offered after a minute. “It seems more like it's something you ought to wear.”

“They'll probably fit you better,” Sheik said as I hesitated. “You are strong, but not quite as... muscular at the hero here.”

Link looked a little embarrassed and I toyed with the idea of giving Sheik a kick. In the end I decided not to; Sheik was not happy about being left behind, and I couldn't entirely blame him for being a little bit petty about it. Instead I just pulled the gauntlets on.

They fit snug, and the silver backing was almost mirror bright. A red gem—a garnet, I believe—was set into the backs of both. I did not, contrary to what might have been reported, suddenly feel as though I was supremely strong. In truth, I felt no differently than I had before they were on.

But when I put my shoulder against the stone monolith—Sheik having reluctantly made his exit while Link moved to my side—and shoved, the monolith _moved_. It did not move easily, it did not move without effort, but it did, at last, _move._ I was panting and sweating by the time it was fitted into the wall it had so plainly come from, and while I caught my breath, we took the time to look around.

The room that it opened into was something of a decorative antechamber; there were cushioned benches and small tables along the walls, and jeweled lamps that glowed with genuine flame. The lamps exuded a scent that was mostly blown away by the influx of fresh air from outside, that caused the small flames and the gauzy fabrics that draped from the ceiling to dance delicately.

It was _almost_ pretty. But something about the room itself put me on edge. It wasn't a harem room, no—that was on the other side, the side that had been bricked up however many years ago—but it gave off a similar feel. A sense that the women meant to occupy this room would have done so at the whim of Ganondorf, and been nothing more than the pretty things he surrounded himself with.

There was a locked door in the middle of the room, but to either side, the only impediment was a series of thicker gauze curtains. The room to the left was a bathing room; the water in the bath was dotted with flowers, and gleamed slightly in the lamplight as we moved around, seeking pieces of the key that would get us into the temple's heart. Part of me was tempted to go wading in that pool, but the rest of me—the very sensible, cautious rest of me—subconsciously recognized that this place was doingsomething to me _in particular,_ and sensed that it would not end well.

We did find two pieces of the key, based on the Gerudo symbol. They were the round end pieces, and Link went to put them into the groove in the wall where they would fit while I got a head start on searching the bedroom that was the opposite side.

 _That_ room was heavy with all sorts of smells, most of which had been stirred up by the fresh air. It didn't... _reek_ per se, but again, the scent the oil lamps were putting into the air was making something slide away from me. Control, of a sort.

Like most people, I value having a say in my actions, and in my life. The temple air whispered the idea that I could let someone else take over, could let someone else take the lead. That I could let go of all of the weight I carried, that I did, in fact, labor under, and let all those things become someone elses' problem.

It has been said that I am stubborn. I know for a fact that I am both that and sharp-tempered under the correct circumstances. Even then, my life was mine, with it's successes and failures in fairly equal measure. The idea of letting someone pick up after my particular messes—even accepting the fact that Link had been the one who could accurately dispel them—was nothing short of insulting.

So really, I was not in the best of moods by the time Link—who had rejoined me, blushing rather heavily at the sight of the bed—found our third piece of the key. Perhaps fortunately, I found the actual key that would let us into the last room, otherwise I may well have gotten very snippy. Leaving the room and returning to the antechamber helped as well; the air was fresher and more clear. While Link went to place the third key, I sat down on a bench and tried to pin down what exactly was wrong with me at the moment.

It was a subtle invasion, really; the scent of the oil, the feel of the temple, sliding into and around me as though I was nothing more than another part of it. It was not immediately an evil feeling, just... insidious and highly discomforting. The temple itself is not a terrible place. But it had been used for some very dark, fairly disturbing rituals to raise power, and retain the facade of youth.

And I was not only youthful, I was _powerful_. I didn't know at the time just how much power I could bring to hand—in truth, I wouldn't learn it until the end—but the corrupted magic of the temple knew, and thusly attempted to seduce me.

It took me a good ten minutes to realize that Link had sat down next to me on the bench and was waiting silently. I glanced at him sidelong, and felt the stirrings of lust; _that_ got me up in a hurry. I was adamant that I would _not_ turn to such things. Not with him. I didn't even want to _try_ that with him, in this place.

I know I hurt him by the abruptness of my leave, but with him somewhat out of sight—being somewhat behind me while I tried to get the key into the lock without dropping it in my nervous, slightly shaky state—it was a little easier to concentrate.

The third room was large, and looked like a very large training room; the walls were lined with glaives and scimitars, and there was a circle drawn in the hard packed dirt. The air here was blessedly free of the scented oil, but it was also musty, as though the room hadn't been aired out in a while. At either end, on stone observation platforms, stood suits of armor, and each one wore the final two pieces of the key around its neck.

The armor itself was pretty elaborate. They have nothing on darknuts, but I am willing to say they were an early darknut prototype that has been refined as time passed... Save that darknuts are actually enchanted armor, not people brainwashed into _becoming_ enchanted armor.

As advertised by the name, Iron Knuckles are usually soldiers in large suits of iron. In our case, they had a faceplate with holes in it for visibility and breathing, and a surcoat with Gerudo patterns on it. A light blue gem, sealed in solver, was at the apex of the helmet.

The most intimidating thing beyond the sheer _size_ of an Iron Knuckle is the double-headed battleaxe that it wields. The Knuckle's enchanted strength, and the sharpness of the axe tend to end fight _very_ quickly, though the Iron Knuckles themselves are really quite slow under their burden of armor.

Of course, at the time, neither one of us was aware that they would be trying to _kill us_ the minute we touched them. You are welcome to guess how well that went. I will, of course, give you what I remember, but be aware that it is not exact; fighting for one's life does tend to lead to a very narrow focus.

We split up, Link taking the Knuckle to the left while I went after the right-side one. As I cut the leather holding the piece of the key around the armor's neck, I heard Link shout in alarm, then heard the sound of metal hitting metal. This was followed up by the solid smack of a body hitting stone.

I started to turn, then realized the armor next to me had raised its axe. I ducked and rolled on instinct, ending up behind the thing as the axe was brought down in a stone-breaking crunch that shook the platform. I swore with great abandon as I scrambled to create room between me and the now-aware armor, my eyes focusing on the battleaxe that could, with minimal effort, cut me in two.

I risked a glance over at Link, and immediately wished I hadn't; he was just picking himself up off the floor, a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. His shield was badly dented from the blow he had blocked, and the hand that held the Master Sword trembled. Navi hovered around the Iron Knuckle, seeking a weakness for him to exploit, and thumping, clatter steps reminded me that I had my own problem to deal with.

I had not, until that moment, put much thought into shield casting; outside of that spell I had made myself imprint in my mind, I felt that I was not actually a person built for defensive work. The shield spell called Nayru's Love, granted to me in part thanks to Sheik's knowledge—though I suspect it was his shadow that told him—hadn't even been tested; I had honestly planned to give it to Link to use.

But I had no shield. If I took a hit the way Link had, I would be down for the count and possibly down for good if I couldn't reach the Light Medallion in its pouch. I couldn't even safely _block_ the heavy swing of the Iron Knuckle, and bar had descended down over the doors to prevent egress.

I fumbled for the crystal, found the power node of the spell, and threw magic into it.

I _still_ went flying.

The landing however, didn't do more than briefly knock the wind out of me. After a few tense seconds of mental gyrations while picking myself up off the dirt, I managed to figure out how to cast it on someone else. Link was the recipient, and we ended up back to back in the middle of the circle, trying to figure out how to beat these things.

“Ideas?” He asked.

“Noooot a one,” I admitted tightly, fumbling in my bandoleer to pass him the Light Medallion. The air of seduction the temple was exuding was temporarily cut off thanks to the imminent fight; our fingers brushing didn't even give me pause, though I couldn't help a fleeting smile at the faint sigh of relief he made. “There's stories of these things that are told to kids as terror tales, but... I don't know. If there was ever word on how to beat them, I didn't hear it.”

“Great...”

“You're telling me,” I grumbled. “At least they move slow.”

Slow was probably being kind. The steps of the Iron Knuckles were heavy and ponderous, clanking as they did down stairs at the back of the two observation platforms and slowly stomping in our direction. It gave Link time to heal, at least, and when he passed the Medallion back I just put it away again without a fuss.

“Can you keep up the shield?” he asked.

I nodded, then remembered he wasn't looking at me; in a fight, his gaze never strayed too far from the enemy.

“Pretty sure I can keep it going for a while,” I replied. “Though hopefully winning won't take that long.”

I felt him nod thanks to his long cap, before we separated, each launching probing attacks at the Iron Knuckle in our view. The armor absorbed most of the hits, though every now and again I would hear a grunt that sounded... almost familiar. A pained noise that almost gave me pause. Almost.

What _did_ give me pause was Navi, flying right at my face when I jumped back for breathing room. She almost got hit for it, but fortunately tiny fairies have good dodging skills.

“The gem!” she cried as she took shelter on my shoulder. “On top of the helmet! If you break that, you should be able to bring them out of it!”

“Bring _who_ out of it?” I demanded.

She made a chiming sound that was plainly distressed. Behind me I heard Link grunt and the crack of battleaxe against stone that made me wince. The crumbling stone was almost loud enough to hide the fairy's next words.

“There's _Gerudo_ in those suits of armor! The gem is controlling them!”

I froze, and felt the blood drain out of my face. The Iron Knuckle walk with heavy slowness in my direction and I sought any sign that Navi was right. My blade had not managed to pierce the armor; it was well-layered and for a moment I considered that a blessing. Not a _long_ moment, because some blood would have made it easier to convince me, but still.

I shifted my grip on my blade,flipping the flat of it up against my arm. The edge wouldn't be useful for breaking, but the pommel _would_. I spared a moment to push another burst of magic into the spelled shield protecting Link and myself, then crouched low. A flick of blue light at the corner of my eye told me that Navi has sped away, likely to give Link the same information.

The axe that came at me was made slower by the momentary spike of adrenaline that pulsed through me and I jumped _over_ the armor, using the horizontal swing to give me a boost without injuring myself.

The gem glowed a pale blue-gray in the firelight, and I lashed down with all my strength. Strength that, if you will recall, was enhanced by the Silver Gauntlets that I wore. The gem shattered into dust, and from inside the armor came a pained shriek of sound. The battleaxe hit the ground with a crash as the armor fell off piece by piece, and shattered into dust.

The woman who had been at the heart of the armor collapsed.

I looked over at Link in time to see him do a running jump, a downward slash that shattered the jeweled on his own enemy, then turned to the downed Gerudo.

She was unconscious, no doubt from the backlash of the spell breaking, and I gingerly rolled her onto her back, then froze. My mother's unconscious face was turned upwards into the lamplight, and I felt... for a long moment I felt numb. She had not escaped as I had thought. She had been caught. She had been brought here, and enslaved by the most powerful sorceresses of our tribe.

What, I wondered dimly, happened to my baby brother?

It hurt. It hurt so much to realize that I had been unwittingly attacking my own mother, whohad done her best for me. At the same time there was something of a catharsis to the realization; I had resented her, subtly, for so long because of her abandonment.

She was breathing, but I couldn't tell if she would wake up soon or not, and as much as I wanted to hear her voice, to hope for an apology, I didn't dare give her the Light Medallion, not even for a moment.

Since there wasn't anything I could do for her at the moment, I went to join Link, who was still waiting warily, sword and badly dented shield in hand. His Gerudo had _not_ fallen unconscious, but she was also not on her feet. She was on her hands and knees, or rather hand and knees, for one hand was pressed up against her face like she had the headache of the century. In truth, she probably _did_.

Nabooru, when she looked up, was clearly still dazed, and she focused on the weapons we had in hand before she focused on the two of us. For me, there was no sign of recognition, which was fair enough; I wasn't someone she'd personally met before. The Spirit Temple had been her headquarters before I had been born, after all. When her eyes fastened on Link, though, they narrowed in confusion, then widened a little. Surprise managed to propel her into sitting more upright, though the wince she gave showed that it didn't come without a cost.

“You're... that kid?” she slurred after a moment. “Where's... what happened?”

“A lot,” he said, more grimly than I expected. “Do you remember anything?”

She frowned, then passed a hand over her face.

“Getting... caught,” she said with a grimace. “Those two... old bats must've done something....”

“'Old bats'? My my, you are just as _rude_ as ever child.”

The creaky, chiding voice brought all of us onto high alert, and Link and I bracketed Nabooru on instinct. Magic flared, fiery orange on one side, and icy blue on the other, and heralded the arrival of Koume and Kotake, hovering on their brooms.

“Now then, what _shall_ we do with these intruders?” Kotake asked, leaning forward on her broom.

“Children shouldn't meddle where they're not _wanted_ ,” Koume replied, cackling a little. “The boy might make good breeding stock, despite the unfortunate shade of his hair. I'm sure we'd get strong daughters from him, however.”

I didn't really think twice about extending the shield to cover Nabooru. This was not really the wisest of moves, as it brought the twin's attention onto me instead.

“This one has more power than she knows what to do with,” Kotake observed, her voice taking on a gleeful, greedy edge. “I wonder if she's the one that got away so long ago? Perhaps we should take both the girls, and leave the boy floundering?”

Without even thinking about it, I passed the key shard I had taken from the Iron Knuckle to Link. I had no _plans_ to be kidnapped and rendered helpless, but just in case, he would not be locked out because of me.

Nabooru, more or less pinned between us, got to her feet, and reached for a weapon she didn't have.

“That one commands a lot of respect among the Gerudo,” Kotake frowned over my head at Nabooru. “We'll _definitely_ want her back, Koume.”

“Perhaps we should teach them a sharp lesson first,” Koume replied.

That was really all the warning we were allowed before twin shots of ice and fire arced in our direction. We scattered—for how could we do anything else—and the witches reoriented to attack again.

Logically speaking, if we'd had enough warning ahead of time, the Goron's Tunic could have helped deal with the temperature of Koume's flames. Unfortunately, Kotake's ice was a different story. Not to mention an unpleasant one. As it was, Link and I dodged splatters of flame and ice while Nabooru seemed to vanish somewhere; the witches hadn't noticed her disappearance, but I did.

I did my best to keep the magic away from my mother's still unconscious form, but after less than three minutes, finding a patch of ground that was neither molten nor frozen was almost impossible. I took up a defensive stance before her, knowing full well that this next attack, magical shield or no magical shield, was going to do some damage. I was stretching myself thin as it was, holding three shields at once...

It occurred to me, yes, that I could put down my sword and use the Water and Fire Medallions in tandem, but there was simply no time to even _try_ and grab them. Goron smithing helped me to cut through the flames and the ice, but I knew the blade wouldn't last much longer; I didn't want to risk dropping the crystal for Nayru's Love, in case the spell failed, so throwing knives were also out of the question.

Rescue came, of all places, from the missing Nabooru, who flung a brightly polished shield at Link.

“Use this!” she yelled, jumping over patches of molten stone and ice. “Reflect their magic!”

Link didn't bother with protesting the idea; he discarded his battered, somewhat melted shield, and brought the new one around in time to deflect a shard of ice that had been fired by Kotake. He didn't aim it at her, though, no, the deflected shard headed straight for her sister. Koume yelped in pain and almost fell off her broom.

“Watch where you're aiming!” she snapped, once she was balanced again.

“Don't blame _me_!” Kotake replied. “I was _aiming_ at the boy!”

They descended into bickering, of all things, as Nabooru landed beside me, grinning sharply. I glanced at her sidelong, and realized she'd armed herself with a pair of scimitar as well.

“...how the hell did you know where that was?” I asked after a minute.

She shot me a surprisingly sheepish glance.

“I stole it and stashed it here before the two old hags decided they wanted to have more say in who comes and goes,” she admitted. “They've always had free run of the place, but it was _mine_ until a decade ago...”

“....somehow, I'm not so sure it was as much yours as you think,” I said dryly.

“Probably not,” she sighed a little.

Another yelp, this time from Kotake, brought our attention back to the fight. Link had to pick his spots with care, but the ice _did_ fade faster than the molten rock cooled, and it was clear he'd managed to deflect fire onto Kotake. Mostly because she was trying to put out the end of her broom. Her sister wasn't much help; she thought it was rather funny.

“...it would be so much easier on us if we could convince them to attack each other,” I muttered.

Nabooru snickered.

“Wouldn't it just? The kid grew up pretty well!”

I just nodded silently, watching with unfeigned concern as Link managed to dodge another attack, then deflect the following into hitting Koume again. Koume raged once more, both at her sister and at Link for his skill. They seemed to have forgotten about the rest of us entirely.

Link seemed to be doing more than enough damage on his own, even without them flying into range where he could attack them with his sword. Kotake had a number of burns dotting her skin, and her hair was badly singed at this point; Koume was actually bleeding from several spots where the sharp ice had cut through her robes, and one of her hands seemed to be frozen to her broom.

I admit, I was somewhat impressed, and a little bit horrified at their resilience. The last straw—quite literally—came when Kotake, from weariness or pain, floated low enough that Nabooru saw a chance and took it. She lunged away from me, rebounded off the wall in a feat of dexterity I was should Sheik would appreciate, and sliced through the end of Kotake's broom.

The witch would have crashed to the floor had she not teleported away in a burst of blue ice that knocked Nabooru back. Koume, realizing she was alone, vanished as well, throwing curses into the air as she did.

The silence that descended was almost an exhausted one. Nabooru half-sat up with a wince, and rubbed at her head with a grimace. Link pressed his back to the wall and slid down it, panting for breath. I glanced over my shoulder at my mother—still unconscious—then went over to make sure Link wasn't too badly injured.

“...well, you can't say my people don't know how to bait a trap,” I said, crouching next to him.

He gave me a weary smile in response, and I once more handed him the Light Medallion, wincing a little at the state of his hand and his shield arm. The cloth had been all but burned away, and his arm was covered in angry red blisters. His hand was no better, and I pulled out the Water Medallion too, holding it above the burned flesh so that cool water could soothe away some of the pain until the magic of the Light Medallion reached the burns.

Link winced a little, but didn't protest; he had taken a pretty hard beating in the fight, after all.

“Sorry,” I said quietly.

“Sorry?”

“I left you to do all the fighting yourself.”

He shook his head a little, then glanced over at my mother.

“She's important to you,” he said after a moment.

“...she's my mother,” I said softly. “If she's here, that doesn't bode well for the brother I should have had.”

He leaned forward slightly, then put his head on my shoulder. After a moment, I shifted to rest my cheek against his head, accepting the silent comfort.

It didn't take long for the Light Medallion to do its work; once it was done, Link pulled off the tunic of forest-green, and traded it for fire-red, a motion I emulated after I used the water Medallion to cool the melted earth.

“So much for the practice room,” Nabooru said in disgust. “Those old bats really did a number on this place!”

“Well, maybe if you hadn't pre-stolen the shield,” I said dryly.

She had the grace to look embarrassed.

“I'm going to take this one outside,” I said, nodding slightly at my mother. “Maybe the dry desert air will help some.”

“Outside...” Nabooru said in longing.

“Why don't we all go?” Link suggested.

“...because it's going to be a thirty second drop off into the tent, and not a full on rest stop?” I replied dourly. “We can't afford to give those two old women time to recover from their injuries.”

In the end, naturally, I was out-voted and the four of us trooped out of the temple. I carried my mother on my back, and I have to say, even though she didn't appear to be coming around any time soon, I was glad to know that she was alive.

Nabooru stood in the sun, breathed in the hot air, and for a moment it seemed like a weight of exhaustion fell from her shoulders. I have to admit, outside of the temple was a lot better than inside, and even as I laid my mother down in the shelter that Sheik had left intact—I had hoped to see him, but alas, he had left entirely—I was already dreading the return.

“Is she going to be okay?” Link asked.

“As far as I can tell, it's backlash and probably a concussion,” I said, lifting my arms ruefully. “I forgot I was wearing these, and I was... a little upset.”

“We don't... _have_ to go back in right away. Do we?”

I hesitated, glancing up at him, then sighed.

“I think we do,” I sad reluctantly. “The only way that place is libel to get cleared out is if we take those old bats out. That shield of yours will probably do the trick for damaging them...”

I paused, and sat back on my heels in thought.

“...try and burn their brooms,” I said after a minute. “Unlike them, the brooms don't seem magical, and if we can get them down to our level...”

Link looked uncertain.

“What?”

“It's just...” he shifted uncertainly. “They're... of everything we've had to fight, they're um...”

“Oh. You're having trouble with the fact that they're _people._ What all have you been fighting, anyways? Re-Dead?”

Nabooru's voice made us both jump. She plopped down on one of the rugs and sighed a little; plainly the question was rhetorical, since she didn't wait for an answer.

“You're wasting your sympathy kiddo,” she said with a faint frown. “Those old hags have been using us for only the goddess knows how long. They take kids with magic, or exceptional beauty, and turn them into... into things like what we were, or they take their magic and life force, using it to extend their own lives. I wouldn't even call them _Gerudo_ any more.

“Besides, you're obviously on a big long quest to fix... whatever it is that Ganondorf broke, right? You're going to have to fight _him_ eventually too. And kill him, if I have to make a guess.”

Link gritted his teeth and scowled a little down at the sand.

“You're right,” I told her, letting Link stew for a moment. “You have no idea _how_ right.”

The tent was quiet for a minute, then Nabooru emphatically smacked her hands against her thighs.

“Then we should get to it, sister,” she said. “Kid, if you can't handle it, then give me back the shield. We ladies will do it. It's probably our mess anyways, right?”

I snorted a little, a wry smile tugging at one corner of my mouth, and got to my feet as well. Link gave me an uncertain look, and I sighed a little.

“She's right, Link. The Iron Knuckles are proof of that if nothing else. If Navi hadn't figured it out, we might've killed both Nabooru and my mother instead of breaking the enchantments. Plus, there's the group that I would have been part of if my mother hadn't kidnapped me from the tribe. 'Magic training,' probably would've killed me.”

He hesitated a minute longer, then nodded and got to his feet. Undoubtedly it was the line about me dying that made him come; I wasn't inclined to admit that I'd said that just for that express purpose. It was definitely not one of my finest moments.

Back in we went, putting the last two pieces of the key into their places. A piece of the ceiling—of all things—lowered down to rest on the floor. I blinked. Nabooru blinked. Link just stared. After a moment where we watched it ascend and then come back down, we all shared a baffled look, then got on one at a time. The hallway it brought us to was mercifully short, and let out into what was the heart of the temple. It wasn't a throne room, which I had been expecting, it was an actual place of worship.

The statue of the Goddess of the Sands was the most prominent feature, reaching from floor to ceiling along the back wall. There were a handful of cushions on the floor for sitting on and no doubt praying to said goddess, and the oddly scented lamp oil smell hung heavy in the air. I heard Nabooru swear quietly, and pull something out of her sleeve; when I glanced over, she was in the process of tying cloth over her nose and mouth. She took one look at me—and I admit, the room was doing a very interesting set of turns that made me want to sit—and put together another one. The filter cut the smell just enough that I could function, and it was certainly better than nothing.

Link looked a little woozy himself, but he shook it off quickly enough, another point in the assumption that this was made to directly affect Gerudo women. Despite this, it still took the three of us another five minutes of somewhat haphazard, uncertain looking around before we noticed the woman in the dead center of the room.

She was tall, even for a Gerudo, closing in at probably close to seven feet in height. She held so still that I, at least, took her for a statue at first, a smaller version, maybe, of the Goddess of the Sands. A heavily stylized one, with much more revealing, skintight clothing trimmed in gold,and painted to look realistic, but a statue nonetheless.

Stupid of me, really; the hair that burned with fire and ice should have clued me—all of us, really—into the truth. But between the scent in the air and the whole... sort of unreality to the entire thing, we were not aware. Not until the woman lifted an arm and threw—literally—a fireball at us.

Link, bless him, was not as muddled as Nabooru or me; he shoved us out of the way and brought the shield to bear, reflecting the fire back at Twinrova. She dodged, and threw curses at him instead, then lobbed out a ball of ice.

We scattered; there was only one enemy this time, so splitting up to take advantage of that was a good move. Link, with the shield, made for a good primary target, and when it seemed like he was close to taking an _actual_ hit—he slipped on the ice several times, though it fortunately failed to do more than cause bruising falls—I would jump in and turn her attention to me.

When her focus was on me, I could sense that I was being herded towards certain spots in the room. Letting her think she was pushing me there was fine, but actually getting caught in one was definitely out of the question. I almost did anyways, at least half a dozen times before Nabooru finally worked her way around to being at Twinrova's back.

Despite there only _being_ one of her, the combined twins had been very good about keeping us all in sight. She had also realized that Link and I were mostly immune to fire, so she had reserved the fire for Nabooru—who was exceptional at dodging—and continued to launch ice at the two of us.

I had drawn her attention away from Link, but was badly positioned, making him scramble towards me as I realized I was not going to be able to avoid getting an ice spike to the shoulder. Her smile was lascivious and cold as she watched us.

She completely missed Nabooru climbing up the statue and then launching herself off of it. Link reached me just barely in time and the ice spike rebounded off the Mirror Shield at the same moment Nabooru's scimitar went straight through Twinrova. To our surprise, there was a flash of orange, and then the three of us were neatly deposited in the Chamber of Sages, with Nabooru—blades still extended—standing on the Spirit Pedestal.

“...what just happened?” she asked, looking are in wary surprise. “Did those two..?”

I shook my head a little, and the two of us straightened from our crouch, though Link took a full minute longer to drop his arm from around my shoulder. The Light Pedestal began to glow, and Nabooru whirled, lifting her scimitar defensively.

“Welcome to the Chamber of Sages,” old Rauru said, a faint smile upon his face. “You have been awakened to your potential as the Sage of Spirit, Lady Nabooru.”

“I'm... The Sage of Spirit?” She blinked a little, and lowered her blades. After a minute, she chuckled. “Well I'll be damned. Is this part of why I was so pissed off by what they were doing there?”

“Likely it is so,” Rauru responded gravely. “Our temples are a part of us, though we do not know it until our awakenings. You are the last of the Sages to be awakened, and we are glad of your arrival.”

She nodded a little, then glanced at us. After a moment he smile warmed.

“Talk about lucky me. After screwing up so badly that I ended up helping _Ganondorf_ , now I get to help you two fight against him. It's... depressing how much he's changed. He used to have _better_ plans than this...” After a moment she shook her head a little. “What's done is done. I would rather fight against what he's become than be used again.”

I felt a touch of sympathy then; Nabooru had plainly loved Ganondorf at one point; it made me wonder just what the man had been like before this apparent descent into madness. After a moment I pushed the thought away as irrelevant, and Nabooru gave us both a proud smile.

“You grew up real well, kid,” she said, her voice approving. “Seven years transformed you into one hell of a swordsman, and you've got a good girlfriend to boot. I owe you both entirely too much, so you can keep the gauntlets... and I'll give you this medallion too.”

With Rauru watching, Nabooru flicked her wrist as though she was flipping a particularly heavy coin. A flash of orange coalesced into the Spirit Medallion, which Link caught, a blush staining his cheeks.

“It's a pity you're so attached, but oh well,” she grinned a little. “Hylians and their idea of monogamy.”

I couldn't help but laugh.

She seemed to fade away slightly, and Rauru cleared his throat; plainly we were to pay attention to him before being sent back, so we turned to look at the old man. It was, to be honest, the first time I'd actually looked at him.

He was about Link's height, and very portly, reminding me of Talon more than a little, just... without the lazy air. His beard was white, and his eyes were a sharp, scintillating blue. He gave off an air of... solemnity. Not quite sternness, but it could bleed into that with ease; it was lightened by the faint crinkles of contentment at the corners of his eyes, and the very slight smile.

“Hero of Time. Lady of the Triforce. Now that we, the six Wise Ones, have been awakened, the true planning can now begin. But first, you must return to the Temple of Time; someone there has a very long story that they must tell you.”

I blinked, then shared a glance with Link. He looked uncertain, but also hopeful, and I admit, I had a small pang of jealousy then. At the same time, I was also feeling somewhat hopeful; I wanted, with all my heart, to see Princess Zelda again myself. Rauru nodded to the both of us, and orange light took us back to the Desert Colossus.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter. I hate it SO DAMN MUCH. It should not have taken as long as it did, but I just could not get it out! I rewrote it twice, and I'm still not entirely sure I like it.
> 
> But I am glad it's done.


	18. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To Ganondorf's tower.

 Seventeen

 

I wish I could say that my mother and I had a long talk and were closer than ever by the time it was over. It would be nice to get even that last bit of happiness. Unfortunately, that's not at all how it worked out.

We tried. But it had been almost ten years; I was not the little girl she remembered, and she was not the mother I wanted her to be. There was no hug, there was no tears...In a way, maybe that was better. It was less a mother and daughter saying farewell as it was two acquaintances.

I did, at least, learn what had happened, though it took some effort to get the whole story. She had safe-guarded my brother, taking him out of the kingdom and leaving him with a couple who promised to take care of him, and then she had been captured coming back for me. She had spent seven long years in a brainwashed state, and even while we were trying to talk, her thoughts would occasionally wander.

We made the week-long trip back to the Gerudo compound with her in tow, though I felt sorry for Epona having to carry three people. I had volunteered to teleport to Lake Hylia, but Link refused to consider the idea of us separating. He was very adamant that we should get my mother back to the compound, and _then_ we could teleport.

Like I said, supremely patient. It was touching, if awkward.

My aunts and cousins exclaimed over us, helping my mother down; the sight of the compound seemed to revive her somewhat, and she allowed herself to be led away to continue her recovery. I honestly didn't expect her to stay long... she had my little brother to get back to, after all. I do hope she stayed long enough to ease her somewhat wandering mind.

We left Epona at the compound as well; habitual runaway that she was, we knew she'd be likely to end up back at Lon-Lon ranch before long but I felt—and Link agreed—that we didn't have the spare time to bring her back ourselves. We warped from the compound directly to the Temple of Time.

The moment we landed on the pedestal that was the teleport pad, my hand started giving off a sharp prickle.

“I've been waiting for you,” 'Sheik' said quietly.

We both turned, and took in the Sheikah standing before us. He stood there quietly, between us on the exit, then Link made a startled noise as another Sheik—my Sheik—stepped out from behind him.

“We have a confession to make,” 'Sheik' continued, his voice grave. “And a story to tell, if you would listen?”

Link nodded, his eyes flicking back and forth between the identical Sheikah. I tried to not smile, even as I felt uneasily certain that trouble was looming.

“The Shadowfolk, as a rule, know more about the legends surrounding the Triforce than any but the Royal Family whose duty is to protect it. Raiha has lent some credence to the ancient myths...”

“By getting stuck right in the middle of them,” I muttered.

Both Sheiks smiled at me slightly, mine nodding his head a little in sympathy; no doubt it had been him that had relayed the truth of the information to his shadow, the princess.

“The Sacred Realm reflects the heart of the one who enters it, and the strength of their heart can transform it. Evil hearts create evil places, pure hearts can make a paradise. While Raiha stepped in first, her desires were not as strong as the Evil King's, and as such, he turned the Sacred Realm into a place of demons and nightmares.

“The Triforce weighs three forces equally; Power. Wisdom. Courage. A person with a balanced heart gains the ability to use the True Froce and make a wish that will affect all of Hyrule.”

This was new information to me at the time, and I was allowed a moment in which to swear. It didn't change anything, but it certainly made me feel a little better. Sheik looked amused and resigned. 'Sheik' looked a little shocked and appalled. Link put a sympathetic arm around my shoulders as I wound down with a tired sigh.

“Why couldn't I have known this _before_ all this crap happened?” I asked rhetorically. “Life would have been so much easier!”

That got me sympathetic looks from all three, so I allowed myself a moment to pout. Sheik picked up the thread of the tale next.

“If ones' heart is _not_ in balance, the Triforce will separate into pieces, and leave only one piece in the hands of the one who touched it; the part that person most believes in. If that person would then gain the True Force, they must find the other two pieces, hidden within those chosen by destiny; they are marked by a Triforce symbol on their hands.”

“Seven years ago,” 'Sheik continued, “Ganondorf used the doorway you opened into the Sacred Realm to steal the Triforce. He first had to wrest it from Raiha, but when he did, the legend came true.”

Link glanced at me, and I nodded, scowling a little at the memory.

“It's probably what kept me from getting killed by him right there in the Sacred Realm,” I said after a minute, absently chafing my upper arm. “One piece stayed with him, and the other two hauled me away. I don't entirely remember...”

“The piece Ganondorf retained was the Triforce of Power,” 'Sheik' said grimly. “It has allowed him to take control of Hyrule, and become a mighty king of evil. His ambitions, however, have not been satiated by the taking of one kingdom, no. He seeks the True Force to grant him control of the world; to that end, he desires the two others chosen by destiny. He also seeks Raiha because she has held it, and turning her to his side would give him an advantage he does not wholly contain.”

It made me shiver a little; if Ganondorf couldn't control all three pieces, but control me instead, force me to make _his_ wish... It was not a very palatable thought. It is, in fact, still unnerving, but now I am better able to defend myself against such a thing happening. Then, the idea was terrifying, but also a small bit vindicating; he _had_ been hunting for me. It also increased the level of guilt several-fold, and I had to touch the Spirit Medallion to remind myself that I had done the best with the options I had.

“The Triforce of Courage is held by you, Link.”

Link looked startled, and I blinked, the quiet announcement dragging my attention back to the present. I had gotten entirely too good at turning out the low-level prickling of my hand caused by Link's proximity. In that moment, I made the final connection; the prickling—and the moderate pain when 'Sheik' joined us—was caused by my body recognizing the _feel_ of a Triforce piece.

“The Triforce of Wisdom...” 'Sheik hesitated, body language changing subtly. “The Triforce of Wisdom is held by the one who is the seventh Sage, destined to be their leader.”

He held up his right hand, back facing us, and the Triforce mark flared with light. I swore a little, and rubbed at my eyes; when my vision cleared, Sheik was kneeling, hand over heart and head bowed, as Princess Zelda stood before us. Link almost fell over in shock; I smiled a little, feeling again vindicated, but also worried. Transformative magic like that, in the depths of Dead Town, had to have been noticed by _someone_.

Zelda was dressed as elegantly as ever; a surprise considering the circumstances under which we were meeting her again. Her long hair was held back by a golden circlet set with a red gem, long gloves covered her arms up over her elbows, and her elaborate gown brushed the floor. I found myself wondering just how well she'd move, if it came down to the fight that we were expecting to have.

“I am sorry to have to meet you in disguise,” she said quietly. “And I am sorry it seemed as though I did not care, Raiha.”

I just smiled a little crookedly, and waved it off.

“S'fine. Your mind was on other things, I know.”

She looked sad, but also pleased. Impulsively I stepped closer, and patted her on the shoulder, then had to snicker; all three of them were shorter than me. It was amusing, what can I say?

“When Impa managed to rescue me from the attack, I thought entrusting the two of you with the Ocarina would be the best chance, and that Ganondorf could never get his hands on the Triforce so long as you were both there, but...”

“But then the damn sword sealed Link away, and I wasn't strong enough, or knowledgeable enough to keep it out of that jerk's hands,” I finished with a grimace.

Zelda winced a little, and glanced down at the carpet under her feet. I presumed that she thought my words were correct, even though she probably wanted to argue against them; she always was kind like that.

“It's not your fault, Raiha,” Sheik said firmly as he stood up. “We should have filled you in on such things before asking you to accompany Link. None of us knew what would happen. But now that everyone is restored, and the Sages are all awakened, we can at last do something.”

“Yes,” Zelda smiled a little. “That is true. This dark age will end, and this land will begin to recover. The Sages have agreed that they can open the sealed doorway between realms, and will lure Ganondorf in. I will then seal the door to the Sacred Realm from this world, and thusly, Ganondorf will vanish from Hyrule.”

“...there's a catch, isn't there?”

Zelda nodded a little.

“In order to properly perform my part in the sealing, I will end up being quite vulnerable. I need to rely on the courage and skill of the three of you for protection,” she said. “But at least I can provide you with a weapon that will pierce the dark magical armor that surrounds Ganondorf.” She paused, then looked at me. “With help?”

I blinked, then nodded. She smiled again, and my heart jumped into my throat; it was relief, and joy, all bound up in one thing, and it brought such light and warmth into the circle we four had moved into that I was, for a moment, somewhat stunned.

“I-I'll help however I can,” I stammered after a moment.

Link snickered at my expense, and Sheik just sighed in resigned amusement.

“Thank you. We'll need an arrow, and the Light Medallion...”

I nodded, and pulled an arrow out of my quiver, then plucked the Light Medallion out as well.

“...the other Medallions may interfere,” Zelda said after a moment, scrutinizing me carefully. “I am not...”

I thought about it, then shrugged out of the bandoleer, passing it to Link, who held it gingerly for care of the very sharp knives that hung from the front. They were less now thanks to all the fighting, and I made a mental note to—after everything was over—commission a new set from the Gorons. As an added precaution, I also handed over the spell-crystals I had gathered. By extension—since I had them stored in a small pouch attached to my quiver—I had to remove said quiver and the attached bow. Then, just to be on the safe side, I handed Sheik the Silver Gauntlets too.

Playfully I inspected myself for other errant spells as a joke before turning back to Zelda and raising an eyebrow.

“Better?”

Link had an expression that suggested he was trying not to laugh, and even Sheik looked openly amused by my antics. Zelda blinked, then giggle a little.

“You really haven't changed much in seven years,” she said fondly. “I am sorry for the secrets...”

“Hey, you needed to stay alive and out of reach. Being a sneaky Sheikah worked out pretty well,” I teased. “Excpet for trying to challenge that thing that came out of the well, anyways.”

She blushed a little, brushing off her skirt in mild embarrassment.

“Put the arrow on the Light Medallion,” she murmured after a moment, pink still staining her cheeks.

I grinned as I complied; it was my turn to blush and be surprised when Zelda's hands rested on mine, though it faded quickly as she built a magical pattern around the two items. Fascinated, I followed along, responding to subconscious directions about where to put magic without even really noticing it. The arrow and the Medallion began to glow as the power built, until it was too bright to see.

Abruptly the light flared, then died away; Link muttered unintelligibly under his breath, and I heard Sheik huff out a laugh of sympathy. When I could see again—sympathizing with Link as my vision returned with a myriad of spots dancing before my eyes—the Medallion remained unchanged, but the arrow itself was wrapped in a golden glow.

“It is the sacred Arrow of Light,” Zelda said quietly. “With this, Ganondorf's dark magics will..”

She swayed a little, and there was a brief scramble to catch her; being the closest, I won, though I tossed the arrow and Medallion to do so.

“Took a lot out of ya, huh?” I joked as I kept the princess from falling over.

“Surprisingly so,” she said with a wry, weary smile. “I was not expecting that...”

“You okay?”

“...I will be, just...”

The words 'give me a moment' were on her lips—and jokingly on mine—when the temple gave a mighty shake. Unexpected as it was, we all staggered; though no one fell on their ass. Unfortunately, my grip on Zelda lead to my being caught in the same large pink crystal. There was no room to draw a blade; there was barely room for me to have the arm around her that I did.

Sheik and Link both lunged for the crystal, hands hitting hard on the translucent surface. Zelda pushed frantically on it from the inside, and I tried to find the space for a decent punch myself. Even collectively, we didn't put a scratch on the damn thing.

Mocking laughter echoed through the temple, and my head snapped up in horrified fury; I should have _known_ that the magic would attract his attention... But in all fairness, I think we all were betting on the holy power of the Temple of Time to cover any additional magic.

 _Looks like I've caught two little traitors in my net,_ Ganondorf boasted. _Seven years of patient waiting seems to have paid off heavily in my favor. I commend the both of you for the evasion, but you finally let your guard down._

I threw a volley of curses into the air; they didn't last long as lightning surged briefly through the crystal, stunning the two of us. We were not unconscious, but neither could we fight back, and in fact, as the crystals lifted into the air, we were pulled apart. Zelda fell back in shock, and I ended up leaning forward, which allowed me to take note of the anger on the faces of Link and Sheik.

_I am magnanimous enough to offer a trade, boy. Come to my castle with the Triforce of Courage, and you may yet be able to rescue someone._

The world wavered; the temple fell out of focus. With a wrenching snap we were propelled through space and separated further; where Zelda went was not where I ended up. In a heap at the feet of the Evil King as my crystal prison dissipated.

I tried, I did, to summon up the energy, the will, to attack him. But my body still tingled from the after-effects of the lightning, and voluntary control evaded me. He used a foot to roll me over onto my back, then frowned down at me.

“Foolish girl,” he said, voice laced with contempt. “Did you think you could disobey your _king_ and not suffer the consequences?”

I didn't even have enough control to make a rude gesture, though I did try. Cold boredom and contempt crossed his face.

“You forget your place. It is time to remind you of it.”

He put a hand on my forehead, and pain made me arc. I won't lie, I screamed both aloud and in my mind. I felt walls form, cutting my off from voluntary control. When the pain died, I was pulled upright, and caught sight of myself in a mirror; on my forehead, chained into my hair, was a pale blue gem, set in silver.

I was still myself, still hated and loathed Ganondorf with everything in me. But I was not the one in control. I tried to exert my own will over my body, to bite, to stab, _something_... but my arms hung limp at my sides. I couldn't even move my eyes away from staring straight ahead!

“You will do very well as an obstacle for that kid,” Ganondorf said with an icy smirk. “Come.”

He turned and walked out of the room, and my body followed.

I fought the spell; I railed and pounded against the metaphysical walls that kept me locked away, throwing what energy I had into pure blunt-force trauma, seeking to put cracks, dents, _anything_ into the prison of power that trapped me. Eventually anger ran down and settled into an exhausted simmer as Ganondorf led the way to the top of the tower; his throne room.

It was surprisingly well-lit; I admit, I expected more darkness and gloom. Light poured in from the large, stained-glass windows that lined the room. The ceiling was high above me, making the room feel surprisingly open and airy, with Zelda's crystal hanging magically near the top as though it was some sort of morbid chandelier. The far end of it was occupied entirely by a large organ, which Ganondorf immediately made his way over to.

“When he come into the room, you are to attack the Hero of Time,” he said coldly. “The Sheikah whelp is negligible, but repel his attacks as well if he gathers his wits. You will not kill them, for that is my prerogative, but you will attack until I say you may stop. Now. Guard position. Room center.”

My body complied; I turned my back on him, striding to the middle of the room, and took up a ready position, with my blades out. Above me, I could hear Zelda trying to get my attention, but I was not able to look up. I could give her no outward sign that I was still _me_ , despite everything. All I could do was stand there and wait.

Ganondorf began to play.

I will say this, he is not unskilled at the instrument. It completely drowned out Zelda's voice over my head, and if not for the fact that my hand was jabbing at me rather mercilessly, I could have forgotten her entirely.

The boys took several hours to arrive, dispelling barriers piece by piece. Ganondorf played continually; my energy returned slowly. I waited, this time with patience. Being rescued annoyed the _hell_ out of me, but until someone could get this damn gem off my forehead, I was stuck. Subtle pushing of the spell's walls on my part yielded no openings I could exploit, but I knew that Link and Sheik would come. The would come for Zelda, and they would come for me.

Finally the doors burst open, and they marched in with weapons bared. The pain in my hand became so sharp that after one long, agonizing moment, it numbed out, to my great relief.

Sheik, it seemed, had taken my place, wearing my bandoleer of throwing knives and Sage Medallions, the Silver Gauntlets, the quiver of arrows, and the bow; I couldn't help but be glad that he had. Link was not terrible with the bow, but he was also burdened with a lot of _other_ equipment, most noticeable being a pair of gauntlets that were a mirror of the Silver ones, albeit backed in gold.

As ordered, my body sprang to attack Link. While the pair had probably suspected a lot of things, this was not on the list. Their shocked expression gave that away quickly. Fortunately, they both had possession of their wits, and jumped to either side of where I was set to land. My body went after Link, who raised his shield, panic on his face.

“Raiha, stop, it's me!” he cried. “Raiha!”

Nayru bless, but I wanted to stop. I wanted to not be attacking one of the people I cared most about. But I was not in control, and all I could do was hope that one of them would realize how to break the enchantment.

I was actually rather glad of the limitations Ganondorf's orders had placed on me; true I could still _heavily_ injure Link or Sheik if I was pushed and they were careless, but the command to not kill them allowed me to avoid the many openings that trying _not_ to fight me put in Link's defense. It did not, however, prevent the injuries, though I could see them healing with a speed unprecedented, considering who held the bandoleer of medallions.

It was the Triforce, of course, trying to come together. For an inanimate object that doesn't care about good or evil, it certainly does have a mind of its own sometimes. The three owners of the pieces, however, were fighting back. Zelda and Ganondorf purposefully, Link, entirely unconsciously. I am not sure whether this was a good or a bad thing, considering how much trouble it had caused, but for the moment I am willing to label it cautiously good, since I was still under Ganondorf's control. I admit, I don't even know if the pieces would have come to me, or if they would have formed, free-floating, in the center of the room for anyone to touch.

Sheik interfered a number of times, though he spoke not a word. I could see grief, and grim determination in his eyes, and a small core of ire. It was he that realized my right hand was not operating at full capacity, and managed to knock one of my blades from me. Since I had not been ordered to retrieve it, should such a thing happen, it went skittering across the floor to end up near Ganondorf.

The bastard was still playing at that. With elaborate flourishes and long, drawn out notes that apparently drowned out the sounds—or perhaps highlighted them—of combat.

Arrogant prick.

I don't know how long the forced fighting lasted. I could tell my body was tiring, my breath rasping in my ears and muscles burning from fatigue.

“Halt,” Ganondorf commanded.

I froze mid-swing, and for a moment actually felt _grateful_ that he had finally said something.

“Come over here and fetch your blade.”

I stumbled more than I walked, but my body obeyed. Link and Sheik didn't try to follow, no doubt too busy trying to regain their breath as much as I was. On his stool, Ganondorf turned around, his smile colder than ice as I reached down and collected the discarded blade, then waited for new orders. Ganondorf himself seemed unconcerned with the injuries I had picked up; Link might have been reluctant to fight, but Sheik was wiser, and Sheik had trained me. Sheik, if properly pushed, could kill me.

For a few moments, I hoped that he would. At least then I wouldn't be the cause of more injury.

“Kneel, girl.”

I knelt, head bowed. He looked not at me, I knew, but at the two young men who were on the opposite end of the room

“A good, obedient slave is hard to find. I am annoyed that you managed to keep her from me for seven years and some.”

“Give her back!” Link yelled. “She's not your slave!”

“Hmph. Be silent, boy,” Ganondorf replied. “She owes her loyalty to her king, and this is the price for her disobedience!”

“I see no king,” Sheik's voice was low and level. “I see a despot wishing to destroy the world.”

Ganondorf's laugh was as cold as his voice.

“The Triforce pieces are resonating. They will combine into one again, if we but let them,” he said with a smirk. “How fortuitous that they were hidden inside the two people I have waited so patiently to capture. It may have taken seven years, but at long last, they will be _mine!_ ”

He stood then, and the organ simply vanished as though it were an illusion. Zelda was also banished, up beyond the ceiling where she would be out of the way.

“These toys are too much for you,” Ganondorf continued with a sneer in his voice. “I command you to return them to me!”

A wave of shattering darkness was flung out as he activated the Triforce of Power. My hand was already too numb to feel much, but that felt like a spike being driven through my palm. Unpleasant would be putting it mildly. Link and Sheik were both flung back against the wall, purple lightning crackling over their bodies; Navi dove under Link's hat after only a few moments.

“Kill the Sheikah,” he told me. “The Hero is mine.”

Utilizing the Triforce Piece within his grasp, Ganondorf broke the bonds of gravity and took to the air. And I? As ordered, went after Sheik. He was somewhat dazed from the pressure of Ganondorf's first cheap shot, but retained enough awareness to dodge. As Link squared off with Ganondorf for the first final fight, Navi came over to Sheik in a whirl of blue.

Whatever she said—no doubt relating to the crystal on my forehead—startled Sheik enough that I ended up running one of my blades cleanly through his left arm. He grimaced with the pain of it, jumping back and throwing a Deku nut down to blind me briefly. I charged through, of course, eyes tearing up from the brightness of the light, and...

Well, I ran headlong into the wall. How I didn't crack the jewel then, I'm not entirely sure.

I stumbled back, and dazed, and attempted to turn; I could hear Link's fight with Ganondorf, could feel magic crackling in the air as the Gerudo male threw spell after spell, and Link blocked with his shield. As I spun, I even managed to catch a glimpse of Link actively trying to chase after Ganondorf, only to be forcefully repelled by a blast of magic that was slammed to the floor.

And then I caught sight of Sheik again, one arm dangling rather uselessly, the other armed with his long knife. He had not gone for the Lighte Medallion, had not taken advantage of my temporarily useless state to heal himself, no, he had set himself in position and waited.

It was a maneuver I recognized; one I hadn't ever been flexible enough to counter. My height generally gave me superior reach, but Sheik had speed, and his life had been dedicated to training as a Sheikah to protect his sister. He was, in this especially, superior to me, he'd just never had a reason to go all out.

My body lunged in, and I watched, locked behind a prison of crystal as he waited until the last possible second, jumped _straight_ _up_ in the air to a dizzying height, then twisted around and brought the pommel of his blade down onto my upturned forehead.

The gem shattered. It hurt almost as much coming off as it had going on, and I ended up sprawled on the floor, panting in pained exhaustion as Sheik yanked the remnants of the crystal from my forehead, throwing it to the side.

“Ow,” I said weakly, struggling to push myself upright. “That hurt. Fix your arm, dummy.”

He looked down at his arm, grimaced, then obeyed, and pulled out the Light Medallion. As I watched, the Medallion did the work it was meant to, sealing the injury speedily. He tried to hand it to me, but I shook my head.

“I'm not injured, just tired. Gimme my bow and quiver.”

“The... but..”

“Sheik, I am the best archer in the room right now. Give me my equipment.”

He hesitated, and we both looked over as Link yelped in pain, watching him drop to his knees as Ganondorf laughed at him mockingly. Without another protest, Sheik handed me the bow and quiver, and I drew an arrow that gleamed golden.

It was hard; I was so tired that my arms refused to bend fully. My numb hand wouldn't hold properly, and I struggled to even make it work. In the end, Sheik pressed the Light Medallion against the back of my neck, then helped to brace me from behind. He didn't have my height, but he helped me draw as I pushed magic into the arrow, making it brighten noticeably.

Ganondorf didn't even look over. I don't know if he felt it but assumed it was negligible, or if he didn't sense it at all, or even if he was too focused on killing Link to care, but for whatever reason, his back remained to us, and I was not above taking advantage of that. While I admit, I would have liked to see his face as the arrow pierced the dark magic and the armor, I'll take my petty revenges as they come.

Link was the one who surprised me most; as Ganondorf staggered forward in shock, the light magic burning away his protections, the Hero lunged forward, sinking his sword into Ganondorf's chest. Ganondorf went from staggering forward to falling back, ending up on his knees with a hand braced on the floor. Link's grip on the Master Sword meant that he had kept it, and Ganondorf was now bleeding heavily from an undoubtedly fatal wound.

Sheik helped me to stand, and I tucked the Light Medallions into a pocket of my vest. Then we went to see Ganondorf's expression.

“Beaten... by these _children?_ ” he gasped for breath, rage in his hard yellow eyes. “No!”

Defying our expectations, he lunged to his feet, and I let off a series of swears as my hand went from being numb to being practically on _fire_ with pain. But instead of some impressive, intense final attack... power exuded from Ganondorf's body, destroying everything around us. Not one hair on one head was harmed in that final, fatal burst of power.

When the light died away, the tower was a wreck, and Ganondorf collapsed in a heap.

As one, we all sighed in relief, then looked up as Zedla's prison descended. It vanished, proving that she had taken control of the spell, and her relief was as potent as ours.

“That was entirely too close,” she said with a warm smile. “Well done, all of you.”

Link, amusingly, both turned red and puffed out his chest rather like a male cuckoo. Sheik just smiled back, and nodded slightly, acknowledging the praise.

My hand had settled back down to numb, which made me feel a bit uneasy. I went over to Ganondorf's body, and crouched carefully. I was entirely too ready for him to jump up and stab me, or something, to be honest. Zelda joined me after a moment, looking down at the body as well. Her expression, when I glanced up, was somewhere between sympathetic and annoyed ruler.

“I can almost pity him,” she said softly. I reached out after a moment, towards his hand, thinking I might try and claim the Triforce of Power. “Without a strong, righteous mind, he could not control the power of the gods, and-”

The tower under our feet gave a hard shake. I fell backwards with a yelp as Zelda staggered. Link and Sheik joined us quickly, Link helping me to stand.

“He must have used the power of his final breath to cause this place to collapse,” Zelda said, eyes wide.

“...sounds like him,” I grumbled. “'If I can't win, no one can' and all that crap. Which way is out?”

“We'll have to follow the tower exterior,” Sheik said, pointing. “Quickly at that. It won't take long for this place to collapse under our feet.”

“...can you stand on your own?” Link asked, he anxious expression in my direction a far cry from the firmly determined one of moments ago.

“I'm fine,” I nodded. “Let's get the hell out before we end up flattened!”

We ran.


	19. Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final fight

Eighteen

 

Escaping the tower wasn't actually all that difficult; we dodged debris that tried to clobber us in the head, fire that tried to hem us in, collapsed stairs...

Okay, perhaps it was a bit more difficult that I'm making it seem. When we were on the outside of the tower, I kept my eyes firmly at my feet, or just a little ahead; it was entirely too tall, but I didn't have the luxury of freezing or being dragged. True, I could have asked one of the boys to carry me, but I had just been required to be rescued. I was not about to let myself make it _worse._

Stubborn Gerudo pride at its finest, yes.

We made it out, though, and retreated to the farthest edge of the floating island that the castle had been made on to avoid the debris that continued to fall. Walls fell in, supports collapsed, ceilings quite literally shattered, portcullises were crushed under the weight of the black stone and metal castle as it fell in on itself.

It seemed a fitting tomb, and a fitting end, to the King of Evil.

As the silence descended, I let out the breath I had been holding, then turned a grin on my friends. We had won. _We had won!_

Hugs and kisses were not out of the question, and Zelda got picked up and spun around by me as well. Watching three people go red—and getting Zelda to laugh at my admittedly exuberant response—was the highlight of the moment. Even Navi got into it, dancing and bobbing in the air as she chimed with glee and delight.

True, we were still on a floating island over a lake of lava, and whatever bridge had allowed the boys in wasn't there any longer, but there was undoubtedly enough magic between the four of us to get us to one of the teleportation pedestals.

The impromptu celebration was cut short by the rubble shifting with a loud crash. Link and Sheik immediately put their hands on their blades, stepping forward protectively.

As we had descended the tower, away from Ganondorf and his Triforce piece, my hand had gone back to a stinging throb—I ignored it as best I could, and given the moment, it wasn't too hard. But after the crash, it settled slowly back into numbness, making me grimace a little.

“What was that, you think?” Zelda asked quietly.

When I glanced over at her, I saw that she wasn't afraid. Grim and concerned, yes, but not afraid. After a moment I shook my head a little.

“Probably? Trouble. Can you change out of the fancy get up? It might.... if it's big, it could take all four of us.”

Sheik glanced over at me, then caught Link by the back of his tunic, preventing him from going off to investigate alone, for which I was grateful. Zelda, after a moment, nodded, and did so, transforming her clothes back to the Sheikah garb she had been clad in. With, of course, a few minor differences.

The hair that had been confined only by her circlet was now tied back in a braid, with what looked to be a throwing knife on the end. Her eyes remained blue, and both were visible. While she retained the blue body armor of the Sheikah, she wore a tabard over the top that was pink-purple in hue, and covered in the symbols of Hyrule Kingdom.

She had, unfortunately, no weapons. After a moment, I unbuckled the two thin blades I carried, and passed them to her.

“Here. Just in case.”

“Don't you need them?” she asked.

I half shrugged, pointing to the bow.

“I have this. Besides, letting you go in unarmed is kind of stupid. You know how to use them, so I'm not too worried.”

I gave her a small grin, and pretended not to see the slightly suspicious look from both her and Sheik.

“Let's go see what that was, shall we?”

After a moment, Sheik released Link, and the four of us spread out in a loose semi-circle, picking our way across the rubble to where the noise had originated. It was a large pile at close to the center that had fallen in such a way as to make a shelter, and when we got too close, it exploded outwards as Ganondorf jumped out of it.

Sheik shielded Zelda, Link lifted his own shield in reflex, and I found a mostly-upright pillar to duck behind to avoid the shrapnel. Ganondorf hung in the air for a moment, then lifted his right hand, showcasing the Triforce of Power before he dug deep and pulled _hard_ on the magic.

My hand went from numb to engulfed in pain in a matter of seconds, and I dropped to one knee, pulling it hard to my chest in hopes that the Light Medallion still tucked into my vest could help. He ruthlessly used the Power he commanded to transform into a ten foot tall, boar-featured monster, still clad in the remnants of Gerudo wear. What stood out the most was the lizalfos-like tail, and the two large swords. The swords were almost as tall as I was, and he lashed out with them surprisingly quick, lunging forward at the most vulnerable member of the group. In this case; Link.

Link's shield took the brunt of the hit, but he still was sent tumbling backwards over several feet, halted only by the rubble itself. I heard Zelda cry out as the pain finally faded back into numbness—and had you asked me before then, I would have said that numb was the worst it could get—and fumbled to yank an arrow out of my quiver. The lighting among the rubble was terrible, so the first Light Arrow I shot straight up into the air.

The _idea_ was a sound one; if we couldn't see, the light arrows could shed _light_. In practice? Not as much light as I'd hoped, and not at _all_ subtle. Ganondorf saw the arrow, changed course, and came after me. I swore, scrambled out of my hiding place as the arrow reached the apex of its arc, and dove out of the way as the swords shattered the ground I had been standing on only moments before.

Zelda ran over to help Link up, Sheik by her side as I more or less played hopscotch with the beast Ganondorf had become. I was not offended then; I was too busy trying to keep ahead of the swords. His swing was surprisingly fast for something so _big_. I am not offended now, looking back on it; Sheik had given an oath to protect Zelda. If he had come to help me, not only would I have taken it as implied criticism, he would have left the future ruler of Hyrule to fend of herself with a dazed Hero.

A lecture would have been very well deserved, in that case. But I digress.

We ended up somewhat strung out in a triangular manner, each taking potshots to try and find a weakness. His hide was thick leather, repelling normal arrows without effort; neither Zelda nor Sheik could do more than a shallow gash, and even Link with the Master Sword was rebuffed with something that sounded like laughter from the beast.

In frustration, Link ended up rolling a bomb between his legs; Sheik winced, and I snorted with laughter. It ended up near Ganondorf's tail, and when it exploded, he _screamed_ in pain. Recovering took only moments, but we had all seen that.

Link jumped out of the way of Ganon's charge as Sheik and Zelda rushed in to take the advantage. I simply shot Ganondorf's tail with an arrow, even as a trio of blades came down to cause more pain.

We really should have expected the backhand sweep of rage and pain. Really should have. Link managed to block with his shield, but was sent flying, this time into a pillar where he lay stunned; the Master Sword ended up about two feet away from his limp hand. Sheik covered Zelda, and I heard metal snap as his blades were broken through the force of the hit; they both went flying as well, landing in heaps.

I ran to them, heart in my throat as Ganondorf roared in furious triumph, then began to lumber his way through the rubble. I couldn't see, or smell, any blood, for which I was grateful, but it was becoming clear that we were going to need some extra help if we wanted to win.

Zelda sat up first, shaking her head a little to clear it. I looked for her, to my bow, then to Ganon. After a moment, I nodded to myself, and unhooked my quiver, as I skidded to a halt in the middle of them.

“Zel, give the swords to Sheik, and take the bow. I think you can blind him if you aim for his forehead,” I said, keeping my voice brisk; I was shaking with adrenaline and fear, but had no time to second-guess the idea. “I need you guys to buy me some time, but _not_ with your lives.”

“...Raiha?” Link said uncertainly, worry crossing his face as I pressed the Light Medallion into his hand.

“Trust me,” I said firmly. “I got this.”

“....don't do anything too dangerous,” Sheik said, grimacing a little as he accepted the Goron-forged blades from Zelda. “You are unarmed now...”

I gave them all a fierce smile.

“Trust me,” I repeated.

Zelda fitted an arrow to the bow, and shot Ganondorf square in the porcine nose; I couldn't help but snicker as she nodded to me. Her expression was set, though I could see sadness in her eyes; no doubt she suspected what I was about to do, at least in some small part.

“We will buy you the time,” was all she said.

I nodded back, helped Link to his feet, then backed away from the fighting. Sheik looked at me for a long moment, and I could see longing in his eyes. He forced himself to turn away, to guard Zelda and help Link, and I couldn't deny that I wanted one last moment with him as well.

Fifteen pages, front and back, of a spell. Memorized to the best of my abilities, not more than two months before. (I should have brought the book with me, I know now, but it hadn't occurred to me at the time, so I was working with what I had.) It wasn't a spell that was quick to cast. It wasn't a spell that was _easy_ to cast.

Some spells can be held in abeyance until needed. Some can be stored in crystals and used as training devices, like Din's Fire, or Nayru's Love. This spell? Not so much. This spell had a weight to it, a portent of the power level required. And I? I didn't have the power. Not really. Not... _technically_. What I had was desperation, and the thread of an idea.

I spoke the words as fast as I dared, trying to block out the sounds of my friends fighting. I pulled whatever magic I could reach that wasn't mine—and wasn't being used to hold the floating island up—and tired it into the spell. I pulled all of my own magic and tied it into the spell.

It wasn't enough. I knew it wouldn't be enough.

By all rights, the spell should have imploded, or backlashed so hard that I would be lucky if my spirit survive intact. I had known it might happen. Maybe part of me hoped it would; at least with that amount of power lashing out, it could have done _something._ But I kept speaking the words, rushing now because I had turned to watch the fight, to seek my opening, and could see that it wasn't going as well as I'd hoped, and the spell kept building and building. It was tapping more than my magic now, it was tapping my physical energy, life force, if you will.

I was committed to saving the world, and the people I loved. I didn't _care_ about the cost. My life buying their own was just fine with me.

Link went flying again, toppling over some rubble that collapsed around him with a crash. Zelda, back far enough with my bow, ran to make sure he was all right, then yelped as Sheik was sent in the exact same direction, knocking her end over end.

Desperately, swearing internally as I all but shouted the last words of the spell, I reached for the Triforce.

It was not complete. It was not whole. But it heard me, and as I've said, sometimes it does seem to have a mind of its own. I did not ask to save the world. Perhaps I should have. Perhaps I should have said 'come to me, let me make you whole, let me fix everything.'

Instead, I asked it for the strength to power the spell.

As I ran forward, multicolored motes of light began to swirl around me, growing rapidly into incandescence. Ganondorf turned, swords upraised.

I'm fairly sure I ran directly onto the sword; dimly I heard Zelda's shriek of horror, heard the boys yelling out agonized denials. But I was more than my body at that moment. I was more than the magic or the spell, or even my own will.

It's... difficult to describe what changed. I had a physical body. That body was now on the end of one of Ganondorf's swords. But the magic, my soul, my stubborn strength of will, the spell itself, all of that kept going until I crashed into the Demon King. I fragmented then, like dust motes in a sunbeam, but instead of scattering, I latched onto the darkness that I could see from millions of points of view, and I held on. His scream of pain and rage reverberated through the air, before he crashed down into the dust.

The spell, you see, is a cage. It is a cage and a binding, and it was actually made to hold the creature at the bottom of Kakariko Well. Just... charged up to a rather ridiculous degree. Zelda, in her grief, helped with that by adding her own power to the spell; it would hold longer thanks to her.

Some pieces of 'me' drifted, landing delicately on the unsheathed Master Sword in Link's hand. Power hummed in the blade, and he looked down at it. His face was sweat-streaked, and dirt covered, with twin tear tracks trailing lines in the dirt. At an oblique angle I noticed Sheik, laboring to stand with an arm pressed tightly to his injured side. He too, was crying.

I wanted to speak to them then, somehow, but I _had_ to hold Ganondorf down. I had to trust that they would understand what I was doing, and take the advantage.

Link, after staring briefly at his blade, wiped the tears from his face and strode forward to finish what had been begun. Three hits were dealt, two crosswise and a stab to Ganondorf's forehead that _should_ have killed him, but somehow didn't. The binding part of the spell snapped, and the demon lunged to his feet, swinging his swords erratically. They clanged off the invisible bars that kept him apart from my friends, and from Zelda, a golden light bloomed.

Beneath Ganondorf, a portal appeared, a torrent of nothingness that sucked him, and all the pieces of me, down into itself. It stripped him of the power he had used to transform, reverting him back to the Gerudo form that was much easier to contain. He shouted curses into the whiteness of the void between realms.

I had intended to remain attached to him; if I could not have his Triforce piece, I could at least prevent him from using it to cause new harm. A seal only held for so long without upkeep, after all, and there was no guarantee that the Sages would be able to maintain the seal eternally.

But instead, something gathered all the disparate pieces of me together, removing me entirely from Ganondorf's form, and drew me ever so gently away. I became myself again, more than the spell, as time ran backwards for me; showing me the sequence of events, the places where I could have effected a large change, and the places where smaller changes would have done better.

I admit, I watched in something of a daze; the information that was being passed to me by the beings that had brought me back together—the three goddesses of Hyrule—was so _much_. I was brought back to the point where everything began, sown things that, even now, I have trouble understanding. I am not, after all, a goddess in charge of the cosmos, or even our world. I was never made to by Hylia, who wished reincarnation to mortality to be by the side of the first Link.

I saw much. Too much, really. The beginning of the world, given credence to legend. The endless fighting against Demise, the Demon King as he lay siege to all the races of the world in search of total domination. The interferences of the goddess Hylia, for whom the Hylian people are named. The creation of the land known as Skyloft, and the eventual descent back down to the scarred and torn land that became Hyrule.

I watched the ancient sage of Light, Rauru, choose to build the Temple of Time around the sacred sword, and how the first Queen Zelda had Hyrule Castle built to watch over the temple. I saw people gathering in the peace-filled land, building a life. I saw Link and Zelda be reborn again, and again, without Triforce pieces, but with innate powers of their own, and skills to rule and serve the land.

I saw the start of our adventures the threads that wound us all together, the strength of it. But I also saw different versions of those adventures. Some where I was not present, some where I was, but only to mild degrees. In one I had even been caught early on and brainwashed much like Nabooru and my mother. And that one was more benign... some of the others...

Ugh. The less I think about those, the better. I still have nightmares of some of the worst timelines...

I saw us fail. I saw Hyrule be covered in darkness and damaged by war and strife. Attempts were made to fix things, but I saw so many endings, I couldn't tell you which one would be the most plausible. They were all a future, no one path set into stone. It was not, I sensed, where I would need to be.

I turned—metaphorically, for I was not really in charge of the moments—instead to the sense of winning. We had won. I had witnessed the win. That was the line I wished to believe in, to be part of.

In most versions I felt flood my mind's eye, Link returned to the past, returned to the childhood he'd been forced to leave behind. It seemed odd to me than, and seems odd now, that Zelda would do that; Link might not have grown into an adult naturally, but he had matured, seeing so much that being a child again would undoubtedly be difficult for him.

It was so much... I cannot, now, recall every last detail. I don't think I _want_ to recall every last detail, just what is stored in my unconscious memory gives me screaming nightmares some nights...

Still, it gave me the gist of the idea. And when time seemed to be holding still once more, and I was... I suppose floating? It's hard to describe what it is a soul does, but that can do, since I wasn't exactly standing on a solid surface. Anyways, I was floating amidst a sea of golden light, a far cry from the featureless nature of the void between realms.

_You who touched the Triforce, must choose. The splitting of the pieces will cause damage to the world. You are not the only one who can, but you are the one who must._

**You will grow into the understanding you unconsciously hold about the Triforce and its powers. It will be your duty to repair it. Until that duty is fulfilled, you will not age, you will not die. You will be granted access to powers and processes very few can contain.**

This is a heavy burden, we three are aware. You are a strong soul, up to the task. When you have fulfilled the mandate we are now setting to your shoulders, we shall meet again, and you will be granted boons.

_But now, child of the desert sands, you must choose the time you wish to remain in. Does your hero fall, or live?_

I can't really... describe the voices that spoke to me. They was made of too many things to fully comprehend, and my first thought was that I'd simply break apart into the millions of pieces that I had been before the goddesses had gathered me up again. It took me several timeless moments to gather any idea of what to say.

I got the sense that the downfall timeline wasn't where I was needed. That world seemed to sort itself out just fine without any interference. It was troubled, yes, but I could remember the feeling of hope tinged in golden light somewhere near the end of it.

That and I had helped him win. Like hell I was going to end up in a world where he had somehow been _killed_ in that battle. Not even going to happen.

“He lives.”

_Which path then, of those the former goddess Hylia creates, will you take? The current time, or the past time?_

I was quiet for a long while, considering the options. The current time, from what I could glean, was going to have trouble of its own. Ganondorf still _held_ the Triforce of Power after all, and even a Seven Sages Seal couldn't contain that forever. If he figured out how to use it—or really, even just regained his strength and blasted away—he would be able to break out and cause new trouble.

And yet, I could feel that this time wasn't going to need my interference either. It would face it's share of tribulations and triumphs, and it too could turn out well.

“The past.”

Keep in mind, please, that time is a very hard thing to manipulate _unless_ you are a goddess. Or a Sage who holds skill in that domain. It is not necessarily a linear thing, it is more a complicated ball of yarn, tangled upon itself, and mixed with perhaps four dozen _other_ balls of yarn, all with different knots and twists as paths are taken, diverted from or too, or cut short on a moment. There was absolutely _no_ guarantee that I would end up in the correct past. None.

_Will you speak to your companions?_

That made me hesitate again.

“Can you show me what would happen if I didn't?”

The silence seemed acutely baffled.

“I don't want to hurt them all over again. I love them. If showing up before them would just make them hurt more, I don't want to do that. I don't want to do that unless it somehow helps them.”

Before me, the golden space rippled, and a scene formed.

Link, Zelda and Sheik stood in what looked to be an endlessly blue sky, filled with scattered clouds. Where they were I couldn't say, and even though I was dead and floating in midair, the idea of there being no solid ground on which to stand made me nervous.

Zelda and Sheik were facing Link; though Sheik was slightly turned away. Of my body there was no sign, but I was all right with that. Seeing yourself dead is a bit... disconcerting. Everyone had tear stains on their faces, and red rims to their eyes. I felt my heart clench a little in my chest, and the desire to reach out and touch them through the wavering air was strong.

“Thank you, Link,” Zelda said softly, solemnly. “Thanks to your effort, Ganondorf is sealed away in the void. Peace can now begin to return to this world.”

Link looked at her, then looked at Sheik. Then he looked away, hollow-eyed.

“I... wish to apologize,” she continued, reached out and gently taking his hand with both of hers. He jumped, making me smile a little. “Everything that has happened, it has all been my fault. I was young, and a little too proud for my own good. I did not comprehend the consequences of trying to assert my will over the Sacred Realm, and the treasure it contained. I dragged... all of you along as well.”  
Sheik opened his mouth, looking for a moment like he might protest, then fell silent, his red eyes darkening with renewed grief. Link hesitantly squeezed Zelda's hand, though he didn't try to refute what had been said.

“I don't know that I can... fix everything, but... I believe it will help if you lay the Master Sword to rest within the Temple of Time once more. It will close the road between times, and return you to the childhood that you have lost. If you return the Ocarina to me-”

“...what about Raiha?” he asked lowly.

She flinched.

“I can't bring back the dead,” she whispered, dropping his hand to hug herself tightly. “But if I send you back far enough, you might find her again. Or...”

“Or someone like her,” Sheik said, his voice grim. “Raiha grew up in this world. She does... did not have the aura of time swirling about her that you have. She could never have traveled with you through time...”

Link took a step back, shaking his head.

“Don't,” he said, voice pleading. “I've already lost one person I love. Please don't make me lose any more. I... I don't think I can bear it.”

“If you don't close the Door of Time, there is a chance Ganondorf could do what he threatened,” Sheik said. I could tell, though, that his heart wasn't in it.

“Then I'll face him with the sword again and again and again,” Link said, new tears filling his eyes. “But I don't want to lose any more friends!”

Zelda looked so completely crushed, that I flinched back from the scene.

“Link,” she tried again, her voice pained.

“No!”

There would be consequences from that, I knew. Multiple timelines within timelines, though to be fair those already existed. I stepped... floated... tch.

I moved back from the scene, and shook my head rapidly.

“All right, all right. I'll go to them. Can I be corporeal? Just until.... until Zelda does whatever it is she's supposed to do with the Ocarina of Time?”

_You may._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know you're too attached to your character interpretations when writing sad scenes makes you want to cry.


	20. Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath

Nineteen

 

If I thought seeing my own dead body was bound to be disconcerting, I clearly hadn't considered the idea that I would join them in that clouded blue sky, with no ground beneath my feet. Not that I was able to look down for long—and there was something solid to stand on, yes.

In truth, I wasn't even on my feet that long before I was tackled onto my ass by two relieved young men and one princess. Whatever the floor was made of, it had enough give to prevent my from cracking my skull open thanks to their enthusiasm.

I was kissed by all three, though everyone missed my mouth. I ended up having to flail around a little to indicate that I was having just a _bit_ of trouble breathing with all three of them practically laying across me. Getting them off was a challenge; any sense of decorum was gone, and I could feel the tears that hit my face, my hair, my hands...

As painfully fraught as that memory is, it is also a good one. Please excuse the tear blotches on the page.

Eventually, I managed to get them to back off just enough that I could sit up. Link snugged himself up under my right arm, and Zelda was wrapped around my left, her cheek pressed against my arm; Sheik had somehow ended up behind me, and was just resting up against my back, his arms around my waist.

“Please don't _ever_ scare us like that again,” Zelda scolded, her free hand rubbing at the fresh tears trailing down her cheeks.

“....sorry?” I offered a little meekly. “It was all I could think of.”

“It was stupid and reckless, and...” Sheik sighed heavily against my back, his forehead pressed to my spine.

Link said nothing, only pressed more firmly against me.

“It was all I could do,” I said quietly. “And.... and before anyone gets their hopes too high, I'm dead. That part's not reversible. I'm sorry...”

Link made a faint sound of protest, and I lifted my right hand to rest lightly on his head.

“Not even a goddess can revive the dead,” I continued, keeping my voice soft. “But they allowed me this moment, to give you all some peace. It's no one's fault, what happened here. All right? This farce was started a long time ago, and this... all of this... was inevitable.”

Zelda pressed her face a little more against my arm; Sheik did the same on my back. They were both weeping.

“I'm sorry,” I repeated, hanging my head a little. “But there's no real choice. I'm dead. And I gave my life gladly, for the salvation of you three, and the world. If so pressed, I'd do it again, only sooner, so that no one else would have to be hurt.”

“Raiha... is there truly nothing we can do?”

I shook my head a little, but offered her a small smile.

“This world must take care of itself now,” I said gently. “You must rebuild the kingdom anew. And Link must return to where he came from.”

Link made a faint sound of protest, but I hugged him gently. I may not have understood it entirely, but if that was the path he was meant to take, I wasn't going to be the one to change it.

“We'll see one another again,” I said quietly, firmly. “I know it. I don't know when, or how, but I know we will.”

Zelda was quiet for a long, long moment. Eventually though, she stretched out a hand towards Link.

“If you return the Ocarina to me, I can return you to where you belong,” she said softly. “Give you back the childhood that was rent from you without your say. And you, with all your experiences, can tell my father that I was right, and Ganondorf will cause the ruination of us all.”

Slowly, slowly, Link reached into his pouch and removed the Ocarina of Time. He weighed it in his hand, then looked up at me, almost pleadingly. I kissed his forehead.

“You're stronger than you think,” I told him. “You're a brave, wonderful hero, and you'll always _be_ a hero, even if you're the only one who knows it.”

I had considered not saying anything, yes. Prolonging the moment where we were all together, for the very last time until there was no other option. Whether it would have been better or worse, I can't say. It was hard, though, to tell them these things and know that I was forever to remain just outside from then on.

Link passed the Ocarina to Zelda, who took it with the gravitas due the situation. No one moved to stand, nor did she unwind herself from my arm to play the song that would send Link back to a far more peaceful childhood.

Light filled the area we rested in, and Link and I slowly dissolved into it.

_I love you all. Good bye._

I drifted in the sea of music and golden light. Feeling faded away, all sensation of movement, of time, eroded into nothingness. It was, in truth, the most peaceful I had ever been, and when things get too rough, I turn to that memory, that moment, and try to recall the specifics of how it felt. It doesn't always help, but most of the time...

Becoming corporeal again was a slow process. I was not reborn, to be perfectly frank; I did not go through a second childhood, knowing everything and affecting to change it. My feet had been bound to a path by the goddesses themselves, and they are not exactly known for half-measures. I was.... built, rather. Adult was the form, the one I wear now with coppery skin and reddish hair that still streaks with blond when I spend my time out of doors.

I was sent back much farther than Link however. And I did, foolishly, cause changes. Not with malicious intent, no, for I love Hyrule. I love the desert that leads to it.

I woke upon that desert, warm sands and hot air that tasted of dust and sunlight surrounding me. I was in the desert wear of my people, though I was without armaments or magical devices.

I joined the Gerudo tribe of then, but I also journeyed into Hyrule, making alliances with Gorons and Zora, and the occasional foray to the steadily grown Castle Town to listen to the local gossip. I learned the Gerudo skills that had been denied to me in my first childhood.... and I learned how to hold myself just slightly apart as people around me aged and died.

I made mistakes. Some of them are still around even now. But I also made amazing things. The Mirror of Twilight that rests in the Arbiter's Ground is both my shame and my pride. My children, my Light Spirits, didn't come until after the sundering, but they are the greatest creations I have ever made.

That's getting too far ahead, however. My apologies.

When the child they named Ganondorf was finally born to my people, I thought long and hard about what I was supposed to do. It was tempting, _painfully_ tempting, to kill the babe. Perhaps a new king, one not evil, would be better? Perhaps spiriting him away to be raised somewhere else, and make room for another boy, a different boy, to be born would make things go a right way, a _happy_ way.

In the end, I chose to leave the Gerudo. They had become more nomadic, not less, after the Spirit Temple had been taken in a prior war, and turned into the Arbiter's Grounds it is today, so it took me several months worth of travel to return to Hyrule.

This land I have been given charge of, it has changed much from what I recall of my youth. So many things are different....

I digress.

There was a war, yes. It was a harsh war as nobility clashed with one another, trying to lay claim to the Hylian throne. I watched, meddled, and occasionally—silently, with all the skills learned from my Gerudo heritage and the Sheikah training I had been given—caused more damage than any one woman has a right to. Many Sheikah that I had trained with—and believe me, getting into Kakariko _before_ Impa opened it up was a trick in and of itself—did not survive the fighting, and were interred, as was their way, in Kakariko Graeyard. And despite my opposition to the idea, stated very loudly and firmly, the Shadow Temple was opened up and used as a temporary prison and torture area.

Wars, to be frank, are not fun. I have never been more grateful for one to end, and to return to the caretaker's home, and the peace that was inherent to the grounds of the Temple of Time.

Before and after the war, I made my living as a musician and story teller. It's funny now, to realize that legends of the Hero of Time were _my_ fault. I couldn't help but relate the tale to those who would listen, putting some pieces to music to given them a different sort of life. I was very careful to avoid playing or singing any of the teleportation songs, but pieces of them leaked in anyways.

My home was almost too small; I am a terrible packrat at times, and I don't like letting go of things until I can no longer recall why I decided to pick them up in the first place. Equipment, to be fair, is replaceable, but most of the things I have picked up in my long life are magical, and those tend to wear slowly, if at all.

A year after the war ended, Zelda and Sheik were born. In recognition for my deeds during the war—I had tried to be subtle, but Impa herself had outed me, the rat—I was invited to the princess's official naming day. It was there that I also, finally, learned that Sheik and Zelda were twins. Impa informed me that she had hopes for Sheik to rebuild, in some small part, the mostly decimated Sheikah people.

Honestly, for someone who was meant to be the Sage of Shadow, Impa was amazingly optimistic about things.

Impa was the one who actually requested that I be allowed access to the palace and the princess for the sake of teaching. I would never have thought about it, being more content to sit back and wait until Link returned, despite my loneliness. She was a very good friend, and I do miss her.

Helping to raise both Sheik and Zelda allowed me to offer them affection in a different way. I cannot have children. My body does not age. If there's one thing I like about that, it's the entire lack of bleeding once a month, which came with its own assortment of troubling issues. I would like to have my own, someday, after everything is said and done.

I taught Zelda magic, I taught Sheik stealth, and privately laughed at the bizarre changes that this timeline was home to. Gerudo were not at _all_ well-liked, that hadn't changed a bit, but I, personally, had managed to become a well-respected, slightly terrifying on a bad day person.

Eleven years passed with a surprising amount of speed. It was not to the day, not really, when rumors of Ganondorf's arrival began rumbling through the gossip of the town. I did not hide this time, I waited slightly off-set from the crowd—my height made it easy for me to see over the heads of most of them; Hylians rarely breach five and a half feet, really—and when he turned to give me an evil stare, I stared back, my chin raised in challenge.

He looked away first, cold disdain crossing his face. It took all I had to stop myself from trying to rush after him, pull him off that horse, and kill him. I shook with the effort, and had to force myself to turn around and walk back to the Temple of Time, where the peace and purity of the Temple allowed me to get a grip.

Two days later, Link returned.

He came to me, surprisingly; I had thought his first destination would be the palace, and hadn't really prepared for anything else. Proof that even my plans within plans, and all my contingencies, cannot really prepare me for everything.

The tired knocking at my door was unexpected enough that I allowed it to pull me away from the book I was reading—Books are the thing I collect most notoriously—to find out who was visiting. If I was surprised to see him on my door, he was surprised to see me as an adult. After a moment, I got down on my knees and opened my arms,

Link needed no further invitation; his tired soul needed release from the horrors he had witness, from the loss he was feeling, and he plowed into me, arms wrapping around my neck. His tears soaked into my shirt, and he clung to me, sobbing and trembling.

We did not go to the palace that day.

It took him a while to calm down, and when he did, I found that he had, in fact, cried himself to sleep. I smiled ruefully and picked him up, muttering to myself about the weight of children as I took him to the large bed—I had replaced it some years ago; I liked the larger space, as it allowed me to keep a number of cats—and tucked him in, removing his weapons and laying them at the foot of the bed within sight.

The cats, not to be deprived of a napping buddy—even one that had been noisy up until some minutes before—all curled around and on him. I shook my head in amusement, and went back to my book.

It was late, and dark when he woke up. I had made a dinner that would keep rather indefinitely, so I was perfectly fine with him sleeping through it, and ended up dozing off in my chair beside my fireplace—magical fire is a wonderful thing, by the way, so long as one can sustain it. He tried to be quiet, and I considered doing him the favor of pretending to sleep, but I was awake before he even made it out of beds. Cats are good little alarms sometimes.

I said nothing, just watched through half-lidded eyes as she half-stumbled across the floor, trying hard to be quiet. He didn't notice my gaze while he was eating, but when he turned around, he jumped hard enough that I winced for the new bruise he must've gotten from smacking into the table.

“S-sorry,” he said uncertainly. “I, um... you look... You...”

I chuckled a little, sitting up, and rubbed the crick in my neck absently.

“It's all right, Link. You needed that. Welcome back.”

He stared. Came over to my chair. Touched my face with small hands.

“How...?”  
“There's something I have to do,” I said gently, resting my own hand on his cheek. “Something very important.”

“Did... was this..?”

“No, this is not the fault of Zelda, or the magic. I knew something like this would happen when I was sitting with you all. I...” I hesitated, then sighed a little. “The goddesses have set me a task. Zelda might have meant the best, but she's unknowingly shattered two Triforce now. One will take care of itself, in due time, but this one... this one here, is one I have to fix myself.”

“How... how will if break? Can't we stop it?”

I smiled at him, and gently lifted his left hand. At my touch, the Triforce mark glimmered faintly.

“It never left you, little hero,” I replied. “And because it didn't, your jump back caused the break. There can only be one Triforce per world, and now Zelda has one, and Ganondorf has one.”

“Can't you get it back together now?” His voice was pained, a little desperate.

“I'm going to try, but there's so much even I don't know about the Triforce,” I said, feeling a bit helpless myself. “I've been combing through the royal archives when not busy with helping Zelda and Sheik, but it's a very _big_ library, and I get.... distracted.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, I saw a ghost of a smile cross Link's young face. I smiled a bit sheepishly myself, then sighed.

“Either way, it's late, and tomorrow we...” I paused, realizing what had been missing. “Where's Navi?”

He looked down at his feet.

“I... she left,” he confessed quietly. “Out the window of the Temple. She said she adored me, and that she was ready to rest in the forest once more...”

I grimaced a little in sympathy. He was not a Kokiri; it stood to reason that now that his long journey was done, the fairy would leave. But still, it seemed unkind of her to do that. Losing not just myself, but Zelda and Sheik to their world, and now Navi.... it almost felt like some sort of terrible joke.

“I'm sorry, dear,” I said softly, gently squeezing his shoulder.

He rubbed at his eyes with the back of one hand, sniffling a little. I wanted to hug him, but I admit, it felt... awkward. Just a little.

...All right, more than a little; I had missed him for many long centuries by that point. I had missed them _all_. But I was the adult, now. Their relationships with me couldn't help but _be_ changed by that simple fact. Zelda and Sheik treated me with the affectionate respect of a well-loved teacher, and I did not expect anything more out of them. I tried not to hope as well.

“...we'll go to the palace in the morning,” I continued after a cautious pause to consider what I should say next. “You can help me and Zelda convince the king that Ganondorf truly is up to no good.”

“What will happen?”

“I'm not entirely sure,” I admitted with a shrug. “Imprisonment at the least... Possibly a death sentence if we can gather enough proof to show that he was actively working to the detriment of the king and the land...”

“Can you?”

I grimaced.

“No. He's annoying cautious, and damn good at playing peaceful. Slick bastard that he is.”

“Do you think a prison will hold him?”

I sighed a little, and got up to fetch a map, absently calling out a seed of firelight to follow me.

“The shape of the land has altered,” I told him, unrolling the map across the table. “It's a long story, but the biggest change is this.”

I pointed down to the desert, and he looked then frowned.

“'Arbiter's Grounds?' What's Arbiter's Grounds?”

“A prison. The Gerudo got....” I frowned a little. “Egotistical. There were a number of mages born to the tribe, and the numbers were bolstered by a group of beings that were from another realm. Some Sheikah as well, if I'm remembering right. They threatened Hyrule, and got their asses handed to them in return. They're more... nomadic now, and fewer in number. They may well die out in a few centuries, or integrate with another land, I don't know. But, anyways, they got their behinds handed to them, and the Spirit Temple was taken away, and it's been converted to a prison.”

“But how will there be a Spirit Sage without a Temple?” Link asked, a little horrified.

I smiled wryly.

“We're going to catch Ganon before the act begins,” I pointed out. “Reasonably thinking, there won't need to be _any_ sages.”

It made me think, however, of the sage-constructs I had made to guard my mirror at the top of the grounds, and pass judgment on those brought before them. A pang of remorse flickered through me, and I sighed a little. I should, by all rights, just destroy the mirror, but I can't bring myself to do it. Not.... not until I've exhausted every possible avenue.

I digress. The tale winds to a close, and my thoughts wander. Excuse me.

Link looked a little doubtful, but after a moment nodded.

“Are you sad about that?” he asked.

I blinked, then sighed a little. It wasn't really a subject I wanted to talk about, all things considered. It was painful, and it was heartbreaking, the choices I had to make.

“Some,” I admitted. “But the only person I can control is me. They disregarded my advice, and that was that.”

I saw him look at me in surprise, and tried not to feel bitter. I could have used that concern when I'd been forced to make my hard choices; having it decades after the fact just hurt. He did seem to pick up on that, at least, and didn't ask any further questions.

“You should get back to bed,” I said after a moment. “It'll be time to go in a few hours.”

“Will we have to sneak in again?” he asked.

I couldn't help but laugh.

“No, Link, we won't have to sneak in. I'm Zelda's tutor, and help Impa with Sheik's training. You can just come with me, and we'll go in the easy way.”

“Zelda won't know me, will she?”

I shook my head a little, and watched his expression fall. This time my faint smile was sad; I knew exactly how he felt.

“Go to bed,” I repeated gently. “We'll sort this out on a whole in the morning.”

He turned, and started to shuffle away, then paused and came back.

“Rai?”

“Hmm?”

“You.... won't leave.... will you?”

“....no, Link. I won't leave you.”

He didn't seem reassured. After a minute I just reached out and pulled him into my lap. He buried his head against my shoulder, and held on tightly, and we stayed like that until the town began to come to life.

We saw Zelda in the morning, and I took her with when we went to inform the king. We beat Ganondorf to the audience chamber by a few minutes, and as I had expected, the minute I was in the same area with all three of them, my right hand went completely numb.

Ganondorf was arrested due to the very long testimony we gave, and Link was hailed—briefly—as a hero who had prevented a potential disaster. Not that the populace really knew that; all they knew was that Ganondorf's potential plan had been caught before the Gerudo king was ready to put it into action.

Link stayed for a year, learning how to _really_ wield the sword he had been given as part of his reward, but before long he knew he had to leave, and told me as much. He left on Epona a few months later, with the Ocarina of Time in his possession.

Feelings changed over time. Mostly in part because I had changed. I stood back and watched as Zelda began to entertain suitors, as Sheik began to look at some of the young noblewomen that made up the court. When Link returned after several years—without Navi, I'm sorry to say—he was the only one who still looked at me like I could hang the stars in the sky.

It took effort to coax him into seeing Malon. I don't know that he ever loved her as much as she deserved, but he did love her. Zelda and Sheik became very good friends with Link, but friendship was the boundary they did not cross. It was the boundary none of us could cross, unfortunately, and it was unkind to all.

I think Malon knew, in some manner, that Link's truest heart lay elsewhere, but she was a strong young woman, and she could accept that with an amazing amount of grace.

Two years before Zelda reached the age of majority, Sheik visited my house in the middle of the night with a hasty message from Impa, telling me that Ganondorf had been remanded to the prison at Arbiter's Grounds three days prior. I had to read it twice to realize what I was being told, and I swore for a good five minutes at the stupidity of the king. I didn't care if Ganondorf died, no, but they didn't send prisoner's to Arbiter's Grounds to be beheaded. They were sent there to be sent through the Mirror of Twilight.

I snatched up my bow and quiver, and ran for the horse that Sheik had thoughtfully brought from the royal stables. I knew what would happen if I couldn't stop them, and Nayru bless me, I tried hard to catch up. I was bound, unfortunately, by the limitations of the horse, and did not reach the prison in time.

All I could do was watch in fury and horror as Ganondorf was sent through the Mirror to the Twilight Realm.

To say I blistered the ears of the king when I returned would be an understatement. I was allowed to have my say for many reasons, and by the time I was done expressing just _how_ displeased this decision made me, I think he felt a good three inches tall. Zelda, I think found the moment rather amusing, even as she somewhat sympathized with her father. She had the Triforce of Wisdom, and was learning its ways religiously, so she expressed sympathy to me as well. Sheik was mostly impressed by how I could go on such a long tear using the most politely scathing insults. Link, being Link, was entirely understanding about why I was so angry about what had happened, but also very amused at the fact that I had more or less taken advantage of my position as Zelda's teacher to yell at her father.

Now I wait, and I plan for the day Ganondorf will return. Because he _will_ , and I am determined to be ready when it happens.

 


	21. Epilogue 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One thing yet remains

Epilogue 1

 

It took them close to two weeks to read the two journals that contained Raiha's whole first story, snatched in moments here and there. Sometimes, through no fault of his own, Ganon would stop reading and just touch the pages, unable to believe, barely able to remember the events that the shade had forced him to do. This world was different, but the shade had been omnipresent and had every memory of success and failure.

The fact that it only took two journals, not the three that were labeled as 'Ocarina Tale', was cause for curiosity, and Ganon held the third journal contemplatively in his hands. In comparison to the other two it was smaller, though admittedly not entirely by much. While he hadn't exactly been counting the pages, there was a difference between the two filled with Gerudo writing.

That just made him curious; the story had clearly ended with her last words in the second journal. What, then, could be in this one?

“Do you think we should open it?” Link asked. “I mean...”

“She said the story was in these three, so there may be something in this one that we ought to look at,” Zelda replied, though her expression was uncertain.

After a moment Ganon shrugged a little and popped it open to a random page. He expected—they all expected—words. While there were words, they were sparse; the title for the image that now stared up at them. The page had fallen open to an image of the Great Deku Tree, and Link felt a shiver of familiarity at the sight of the old tree.

Zelda let out a quiet breath of surprise, and even Ganon grunted a little. After a moment he flipped back to the beginning of the book. It opened with a picture of a startlingly young Raiha; she couldn't have been older than ten, if that. Her hair was cropped boyishly short, and her expression was somewhat pleased. She seemed to be looking in a mirror, if the rest of the image was any indication, and after a moment, Zelda nodded in understanding.

“Theses are imprinted memories,” she said. “It's not entirely unlike the pictograph boxes that you can find in the market square some days, just done through magic instead of alchemy. The spell takes memories directly from the mind, so they're not entirely perfect, but...”

“But in lieu of anything else, it's a good substitute,” Ganon finished.

It _was_ imperfect; the edges of the image bled a bit like it was a watercolor painting,and there was a hint of uncertainty about the objects displayed beyond the mirror. They seemed to be less formed than the details of Raiha's face. Zelda reached out and lightly touched the picture, her expression sad.

“She looks so lonely....”

“You think?” Ganon replied, a little startled.

Zelda nodded.

“It's Raiha,” Link said after a moment, also reaching out to touch the page. “She doesn't want to be lonely, but she is...”

Ganon grimaced, and had to admit that they both had a point. Of the three of them, Raiha was certainly the most adept at not talking about feelings unless specific circumstances were met. Even after the past five years, she still didn't seem to entirely trust that what she now had wouldn't suddenly vanish on her. He could empathize with that, definitely.

The next picture was the Temple of Time's exterior, as seen from the viewpoint of a child. Link whistled.

“That's how it used to look?”

“I guess,” Ganon shrugged a little.

It was pretty impressive; a grand old place that clearly towered over any structure save the castle. In the distance, there was the shape of a mountain, and the sky overhead was a pale blue. Zelda smiled after a moment.

“She liked it.”

“How can you tell?” Ganon asked.

“It's imprinted strongly in the paper. These are pictures from memory, so the more attached a person was to the image, the sharper and more detailed it will be. I wouldn't be at all surprised if we took a magnifying glass and were able to count the amount of laid stone.”

Link grinned a little, and Ganon snorted his amusement.

The next page made all of them startle, and Ganon swore quietly. The picture that glared back at him was vastly different from who he was now, and rang all sorts of familiarity bells in his brain. It _was_ him, for all intents and purposes, and yet.. not. The yellow eyes were icy and dark, his face was sharper, longer, and filled with arrogance and shadowed malice.

“...wow...” Link breathed.

Ganon hastily turned the page, and shuddered a little. The last memories he wanted to bring up were those of the shade, and the many _many_ evils he had committed while under the control of that monstrosity. It almost made him wish Raiha was there; as sympathetic as he could feel Zelda being on his left, she didn't entirely understand. Raiha would.

Several pictures of the market followed, specific places Raiha had clearly spent a lot of time in. Malon's face was prominent in a handful, and Link couldn't help but smile a little at how bright and cheery the farm girl's smile was. One picture was probably the first time someone had voluntarily held Raiha's hand, and it was practically etched into the page.

Next was a young Zelda, shadowed by Impa; Link and Ganon both looked at the young woman siting with them, and she blinked in surprise.

“She always said that I looked very similar to one of the first,” she said, tracing the lines of the face on the page. “That's... I wonder if she has pictures of the older one in here?”

“I wouldn't be too surprised,” Ganon said. “We could try and find them?”

She shook her head after a moment.

“No, let's continue chronologically. If they are here, they are here, and if not, then they are not. And I would like to see what other images she imprinted.”

“...it kind of feels like spying,” Link confessed. “Even with her permission.”

Ganon hesitated on turning the page after that comment. Now that Link had brought it up, it _did_ feel rather like he was looking into something private and personal. The three of them exchanged uncertain looks.

“Perhaps... perhaps she will be more amenable to us talking to her now,” Zelda suggested contemplatively. “We could ask her about some of them. Perhaps she would have some stories for us that wouldn't cause her pain.”

“Do we draw straws to see who gets to talk to her first?” Ganon asked after a minute with a wry grin.

“It wouldn't be a bad idea,” Zelda replied. “You know how little she enjoys being crowded, especially with things like this. All of us going at once would probably be a bit overwhelming.”

Link nodded in agreement; Raiha could take them mostly in concert for short periods of time, but even after five years, it was easier on her if they approached only one at a time for specific things. This was definitely a specific thing... plus, he really wanted to know how she was feeling, and no doubt the other two did as well.

While Raiha had returned to the palace, she had kept to herself for the most part. She had read Tetra her bedtime stories, to be sure, but any time one of them had indicated they wanted to spend time with her, she had firmly, politely rebuffed them. She had even left for a handful of days to be alone entirely, which had pleased no one... she was not pregnant to the point of being ready to give birth, no, but damnit, she was still _pregnant_ , and shouldn't have been out there alone.

Of course, trying to make this point never really _worked_ with Raiha. Even pregnant she had more ability on her own than anyone else she could have chosen to bring with. It was an annoying sticking point...

“Whoever sees her first could also just ask,” Ganon pointed out after a moment. “It would let her know that we've finished reading the journals, and we could let it be luck of the draw.”

“You mean luck of the fastest runner, who is most familiar with her hiding places,” Zelda said, her tone amused and very dry.

He grinned, and shrugged a little.

“Maybe.”

“If you get shocked by her door, it's your own fault,” was the prim reply.

Link snickered.

“Last time your hair took three whole hours to lose the spark,” he reminded the redhead with a grin. “And getting it to come down from the stuck out fluff took six.”

Ganon grimaced, and gave Link a very light shove.

“It's not _that_ funny,” he grumbled a bit.

“From your perspective,” Zelda replied, her eyes glittering with mirth.

He crossed his arms with a put upon scowl that only made the two blonds laugh.

“It's late now, at any rate,” Zelda said, once her giggles wound down. “Perhaps we should just sleep, and allow her to come to one of us.”

After a moment of silent thought, Ganon shrugged, and closed the image book, setting it back on the low table.

“Might as well save it for tomorrow,” he agreed. “If nothing else. Don't we have that big meeting with Jericca's group at ten?”

“Mmm,” the queen nodded. “And Mito's after that. It's going to be a busy day for everyone.”

“Will I need to blow something up?”

Link snickered again, and Zelda couldn't _quite_ stifle her grin.

“I don't _think_ you will, but we'll hold the idea in reserve, all right?”

Ganon smirked, and got to his feet.

“In that case, bed is probably the place to be.”

Link nodded, getting up as well, and Zelda followed suit. They separated, each heading to their own bedroom with their own thoughts.

Zelda was contemplative, and quietly sympathetic. For a first adventure, the story had most assuredly been fraught with danger and trials aplenty. It helped to explain some of the reasons why Raiha would occasionally react in a manner that seemed odd, or why some mornings she looked tired in a very specific way that had nothing to do with if she had or hadn't shared a bed with someone.

It really was amazing how much Raiha knew about them, but they didn't know about her. Zelda considered this thought while she changed into her nightclothes, then sighed a little to herself before climbing into bed. She had always resolved to not pry unless there was no other option. Raiha did seem to prefer it like that... but maybe now, now that they all knew a little more, the redheaded woman would be a little more inclined to share.

Ganon heavily considered returning to the parlor to flip through the images anyways, wanting to know what they all were. He didn't doubt there would be many of Sheik and Link, and of all the others that had influenced her young life. The lack of pictures of her mother was striking, and a little saddening; either the memories hadn't been strong enough, or Raiha had allowed them to fade.

It made him want to go and talk with her, but the castle's clocks were all saying that it was closing in on midnight, and no doubt if she _was_ in her room she had the wards up, and was likely resting.

...though she did have that uncanny sense of when he had a nightmare and needed to be around someone who understood without overt sympathy. Maybe...

He hesitated a moment at the top of the stairs that would take him down to the hall where she claimed a small, modest suite, then sighed and continued on to his. No, he would be good. Let Link approach her first, maybe. She always responded the best to him.

Link, for his part, was still somewhat uncomfortable from looking at the pictures. The journals were one thing, he couldn't... couldn't infer too much into the words beyond what Ganon had inflicted, and his own imagination trying to fill in the blanks. He got impression, _feelings_ sometimes, with the words, but never clear or concrete memories. Hearing about her almost dying—from her point of view at that!—had brought a particularly vivid feeling of panic, but considering what had happened only a short decade ago, it was hard to not recall how close they had come to losing her entirely.

Where Ganon had hesitated, Link did not. Though he did look around a little guiltily first to make sure he wasn't being observed before he trotted quickly down the stairs to the level that held Raiha's room. He checked the door very carefully; when she was in and didn't want to be disturbed, it was warded with a shock spell, and he had no intention of ending up with poofy hair like Ganon had.

The door wasn't warded, and after a moment he hesitantly knocked. Silence was his reward, so he knocked again; sometimes she was in her second room doing... something, he wasn't sure what, and didn't hear the knocking. Ganon, he knew, would just barge in, but that wasn't polite.... plus, Raiha didn't generally take well to someone walking in without her permission. Given her general reactions to being surprised—it was rare, but it could happen—he preferred to wait rather than push open the door.

Five minutes passed, then ten. He shifted from foot to foot, going from drowsy and concerned to awake and worried. After a moment, he gingerly pushed down on the latch. The door swung open easily revealing a room only dimly lit by the low magical flame in her grate. Gingerly he stepped in, looking around hopefully.

The first room one stepped into was a receiving sort of room; there was a large fireplace at one end, filled with a banked, magical fire. Closest to it was a backless couch that was about twice again as long as a typical two-person couch, with thick blankets and a handful of extremely fluffy pillows. Set to either side were a pair of large, comfortable-looking chairs; Link knew that all of those had been used for sleeping on at least once, among other things.

There were several tables of varying heights, mostly covered in books and pages of notes, as well as pieces of charcoal and pens. The stone floor was covered in a number of rugs, not a one of them matching, and most of them overlapping; the walls were covered in tapestries that were similar. Where there weren't tapestries, there were bookshelves that were stuffed to the brim with books and a handful of knickknacks as well. There were also some drawings Tetra had made of all of them, and despite his unease, Link couldn't help but smile at the sight of them pinned to the wall.

The left-hand room was always off-limits; that was the room where Raiha worked magic into things, and practiced certain alchemic formulae. The right hand room was her bedroom, and after a minute he went to that doorway, pushed aside the thick hanging curtain, and peered in.

Like the parlor, her bedroom was fairly lush in fabrics that blocked out the cool air; her bed was canopied with thick velvet, and piled high with many blankets and pillows. It was also not a terribly _large_ bed; it could fit three people at a stretch—they'd checked, and if the other was Ganon, it only fit two—and she mostly preferred to sleep in it alone, assuming she actually _made it_ to bed. There were more packed bookshelves, end tables, and desks littered with notes and softly glowing crystal globes, and a small armoire was stuffed into the corner near the small fourth room that served as her bathing room.

She was not there either, and Link felt his heart bump painfully up into his chest. True, there were plenty of places he could check, but that was the problem; there were _plenty_ of places to check. The Royal Archives—not to be confused with the Royal Library—were huge, and she could easily be anywhere in the large archives. She could be anywhere in the large library at that! And that was only two of the multiple places she might be in the palace; if she'd _left_ , that was a whole different game.

...at least he knew one place she wasn't. She had promised to keep the alchemy to a minimum while she was pregnant, since some of the compounds she worked with were rather toxic, even if handled with her typical precision and care. So she was definitely _not_ in that room.

He hovered there in the doorway for several long minutes before he let the curtain drop, and turned to leave with an unhappy sound. It might've been a long shot, but he couldn't help but hope. He _missed_ spending relaxed, easy time with her, and he couldn't help but feel lonely even though he knew better than anyone that this sort of reaction was very typical of Raiha.

He left her rooms entirely, then frowned a little in thought as he stood there in the hallway. Of the three of them, really, he was only needed if someone gave to grave an insult to Zelda, so he could _probably_ get away with being a bit late to the meeting, or being noticeably sleepy...

After a moment he nodded to himself, and went to check both the Library and the Archives. It took some doing, but around two am, he finally found her somewhere at the back of the archives, snuggled down into a chair with a blanket on her lap and a book draped over her chest. He hesitated, at something of a loss; it most cases, she would have already woken up at his approach, or would have _been_ waking up. He hadn't been particularly quiet, since he knew how she reacted to being startled. But she was clearly dead asleep.

It was rare to catch Raiha in a vulnerable moment like this, even when sharing her bed. 'Peaceful' was not typically the word associated with her, even in dreaming. Sometimes _especially_ in dreaming; she occasionally had screaming nightmares, much like Ganon. She didn't often fall asleep first, nor did she wake up after someone else. She didn't look particularly peaceful at the moment either; her expression was drawn, gravely unhappy with whatever she was dreaming about.

It made his heart hurt a little to understand why, and after a moment he carefully reached out and touched her shoulder. He _wanted_ to stroke her face, but that would have been pushing his luck. She came awake as abruptly as he'd expected, and he quickly stepped back as she surged to her feet, catching her book before it could hit the floor.

Raiha blinked a handful of times, then focused on him. After a moment, her eyes narrowed, and he returned the book wordlessly, allowing her to mark her place and put it on the nearby scholar's desk.

“You look like you should be sleeping,” she said, voice husky from her abrupt awakening.

“...probably,” he admitted. “But... I wanted to see you. I.. um... We... We finished reading the journals.”

“All of them?”

He shook his head a little.

“The... the picture book seemed too personal to go through without you,” he confessed. “At least for me.”

That brought up a ghost of a smile, followed up by a tired yawn.

“There's meetings today,” she said after a moment, making an annoyed face. “But if it bothers you that much, let Ganon and Zel know that I'll come by after the bedtime story and tell you about a few of them.”

He nodded, then hesitated.

“Rai?”  
“Mmn?”

“I'm... sorry.”

She blinked at him, then her eyes darkened a little with understanding. She glanced away, and Link felt his heart twist a little in his chest. She wasn't entirely awake, so she wasn't hiding her emotions as well as she usually did; the sadness in her amber eyes made him want to hold her tightly, but he carefully held himself in check.

“It's not anyone's fault,” she said quietly. “It never has been. Demise was a shitty sore loser, and it's not important now anyways. The cycle is broken, and now it's up to us as a whole to set things to rights.”

After a moment, she straightened her shoulders slightly, then turned to pick up the blanket from where it had fallen.

“You should get to bed,” she continued. “Queen's Champions need to be at their best for meetings with people who like to give insults disguised as compliments.”

He hesitated a little, and she raised an eyebrow at him. Link flushed a little.

“Aren't you going to be there?”

“Yes, but not until the later part of the meeting, since I'm only going to put the fear of me into them if they insist on trying to annex the desert again,” she stretched a little, then absently rubbed her growing stomach. “So I can afford to sleep in. You, on the other hand, are going to need a dozen cups of strong tea if you stay up much later.” Raiha paused for a beat, then shrugged. “C'mon puppy. My rooms are closer, and it won't be the first time you've worn the same outfit several days in a row.”

Link brightened a little, and trotted obediently after her as she made for her rooms. It was rare she issued an invite just to rest and cuddle; she had so many personal barriers that it was hard to figure out which ones could be breached at which time. It made up for the fact that having a personal conversation would still likely take a handful of days, and he would be sharing her with Zelda and Gan when it came to the pictures.

She warded the door after he closed it with a snap of her fingers, and a faint crackle was the response. Now, he knew, anyone who tried to open the door would get a nasty shock, though it only worked one way; someone trying to leave would be just fine. He couldn't help giggling a little at the memory of a puffy-haired Ganon, and Raiha glanced at him, then smiled faintly herself, clearly recalling the same moment.

“All right. You're plainly too tired if you're reduced to giggles by my door ward,” she said dryly. “Into bed with you, you nut.”

Link stepped into the bedroom to strip out of his armor, but when he realized she was intending to sleep on her long couch—he knew those sounds—he stepped back out and frowned at her a little.

“Nothing personal, Link,” she said from where she stood next to the now somewhat leaping fire. “But it's still not time yet. We'll talk when you're not punch drunk silly on lack of sleep. I promise.”

“But... I don't want to talk now,” he said a little plaintively, yawning despite himself. “I just want...”

“I know. You want to cuddle and fuss, and burying your head against my shoulder,” she smiled tiredly, her voice pained. “But I still can't. I'm sorry, but I need this space still. A few more days, all right?”

He wanted to protest, but after a moment he just hung his head a little and stepped back into the room, climbing into the bed that was too big for him alone. He could hear her settled onto the couch and sighed a little forlornly to himself. Despite his best efforts, he was very quickly asleep.

Raiha, on the other hand, laid awake, watching as the firelight created shadows on the ceiling, mine buzzing with thoughts.

She loved them all. She really did. She still missed Sheik, but even without him, her life had finally started to be something she could actually enjoy and be _happy_ with. If anything, however, what she was actually looking forward to was the day she finally ended up in the reincarnation cycle; no more remembering all the trouble she'd caused, all the bad timelines that kept company with the good, all the memories that weren't really _hers_ that could wake her in the middle of the night drenched in sweat...

She closed her eyes and rubbed a hand tiredly over her face; everything was done and over with, but she still carried the weight of all those memories. It was why she tried so very hard to live just in the day to day moments, and after a moment she lightly touched her gently rounded stomach, and allowed herself a soft smile.

This, at least, was proof that she was mortal again, and time was passing. She enjoyed playing with Tetra—raising her with Zelda and the others, as much a mother, if not her blood—and had hopes that her own children would be just as happy.

Slowly, slowly, the redhead finally slipped back into a deep sleep. She didn't even twitch when Link crept through in the morning. He paused at the sight, then went and adjusted the blanket that was half on the floor at that point. It was such an innocent, harmless thing that she only shifted a little in her sleep,and he was able to slip silently out the door and scramble to his rooms to get properly dressed.

The morning meeting passed—as they often did—with glacial slowness. Link, wearing his ceremonial armor and weapon, stood at Zelda's right, and tried not to doze off on his feet. Ganon, on Zelda's left, was easily balanced, hands neatly tucked behind his back, and utterly, _completely_ bored. He couldn't even _talk_ to Link because if he opened his mouth to say even a quiet aside to the kid, all attention would focus on him.

He knew because he'd already tried; all he _wanted_ to know was if Raiha had been personable enough the night before, or if Link had been rebuffed once more. Given that Link had arrived almost late, there had been no time to ask, and the meeting was looking to drag on well beyond noon. That would be annoying, since at two they were supposed to meet with the _other_ group of carefully expanding-their-lands nobles, and that one would take even _more_ time because it was a larger crew.

Raiha showed up at the exact right moment; her gift for timing was downright supernatural at times. At least, according to Ganon, anyways, as they had only just started talking about ideas to gently—he snorted a little at their idea of gentle—annex the nearest parts of the desert. He was against it on principle. _Raiha_ had a proprietary interest in them keeping their grubby hands off, and she shut them all down within minutes.

“Now, really, Your Majesty,” one of the noblemen protested. “Surely you're not-”

“Raiha is the one most intimately familiar with the desert,” Zelda replied serenely, her hands folded neatly on top of the table. “If the desert is as she says, I will continue to agree to her desires to leave it alone.”

“All we know about the desert _comes_ from her,” he replied, raising his voice slightly. “Or Guardmaster Ganon. It couldn't _hurt_ to send a few scouts from the army to-”

“I swear, you're like a dog with a bone,” Raiha said, her tone bored, her eyes ice cold. “Use those large ears of yours for something useful, and _listen_ already. The desert had _nothing of interest_ in it. The prison is destroyed, and the area itself is precarious enough that _any_ outside influence could ruin _all my hard work_. If you _persist_ in trying to explore, annex, or otherwise _touch my desert_ , I will have Lanayru help me block it off for good so that you can't cause any more _trouble_.”

Link was drowsy enough that his amused snort was not entirely muffled. Ganon was having a hard time keeping a calm facade himself; he wanted to lean away from the cold anger that Raiha was radiating. Zelda merely reached out and lightly rested a hand on Raiha's.

“Calm down, dear,” she said firmly. “You don't want to upset the babies.”

Raiha blinked, leaned back a little from the looming position she'd taken, then closed her eyes and took a meditative breath.

“In any case, Lord Irako, the answer remains a firm no,” Zelda continued, turning her attention to the nobleman in question. “Until such time as the desert has healed from the many abuses it has suffered, we are not going to even consider a peaceful treaty, let alone the rather fierce campaign you wish to agitate for.”

“Majesty, be-”

“If your next word is 'reasonable', I might not be,” Ganon rumbled, eyes narrowing. “The desert doesn't belong to Hyrule. It will _never_ belong to Hyrule. My people are scattered to the four winds because of this kingdom, and I will be _damned_ if I let you undo all the work that Raiha put into fixing that particular mess you called a prison, let alone the rest of the reachable, traversable desert!”

He saw her wince a little out of the corner of his eye, and wondered briefly just how much the prison was her fault. After a moment he dismissed the question as irrelevant; there wasn't anything he could say that would be a worse punishment for the guilt she'd carried for centuries.

Lord Irako subsided after a hard look from Baroness Jerrica, who was the leader of this particular gathering of lesser nobility. Jerrica, for all she could coach an insult in the form of a compliment, knew when to not press her luck, and with both the desert natives against her, it would _definitely_ be that. Ganon was almost sorry; watching Link take down the puffing Irako would have been funny. Even as tired as the blonde champion was, he would have easily mopped the floor with the man.

He gave a mental shrug; if Irako pressed the issue again at a later date, with another group of nobles, he would have fun drawing that line in the sand again, and daring him to step over it. Like Raiha, he didn't want to go back to such an empty, lonely place, but neither did he want them to ruin all the work and magic that Raiha had put into trying to repair the damaged land.

With Raiha added to the meeting, the nobility quickly realized they were outnumbered, and out-matched. While Link rarely offered a comment in the meetings, Ganon was not so shy, and neither was Raiha. Both were quite willing to make their voices heard, though they were polite enough to ask permission from Zelda first, as it was _technically_ her meeting. The tiny smile on her face suggested—to Ganon, at least—that she was not adverse to them more or less taking over, and was, in fact, enjoying the show.

It ended right around noon, with very few of their concessions granted, and the nobles filed out, muttering amongst themselves. Raiha shook her head, but seemed more tired than irritated.

“Children,” she sighed, leaning her hip against the table. “Only much more destructive because they come at things like this deliberately instead of accidentally.”

All three of them nodded, understanding where the remark was rooted and Zelda specifically recognizing it as not criticizing her line. The queen smiled a little as she got up, absently brushing down her skirt.

“While I do think we'll need to send someone in to the desert eventually, for an accurate map if nothing else, I do not think it will be within the next decade,” the blonde woman said with a reassuring look towards both Ganon and Raiha. “And certainly not with the intent of claiming that which is not, and will never be ours.”

Ganon sighed a little, and absently ran a hand through his long hair. Raiha just smiled faintly, crookedly, and nodded a little.

“So, Link tells me you guys would like me to be there when you go through the memory book?”

Link startled into awareness at the sound of his name, then blushed a little as Ganon snickered mercilessly.

“He was the one who brought it up, actually,” Zelda said with a fondly amused look at Link's sheepish expression. “And once he did, it seemed...impolite to go through them.”

“I _did_ say you had carte blanche to read the first three journals,” the redhead painted out.

“Yes, but reading words and seeing memories are not necessarily the same thing,” the queen countered gently. “And... we would like to ask about them, as long as it doesn't bring up too many sad memories.”

Raiha nodded a little.

“You guys have been reading after Tetra's bedtime, right? Your parlor?”

“Yes.”

“I'll join you there, then. For now, we should all eat lunch, and then you three need to get ready for the next meeting.”

Her grin was a little wicked as Ganon groaned.

“Count Mito, at least, will be more reasonable about any outlandish ideas his group has,” Zelda said mildly as they filed out of the room and turned to take the hall that lead to the informal dining hall; the formal one that was shared with the court was really only used in large celebrations, as it was also attached to the main ballroom. “He is, I think, looking to expand in the direction of the Zora, but only if you think it's wise.”

Raiha blinked.

“Me?”

“Well, while they _are_ allies of the crown, it's not exactly a secret that you are very close friends with Zora royalty,” she replied, smiling a little. “Didn't you know?”

“Well, yes, but...”

Ganon snickered, this time at Raiha. In response, she huffed a little and frowned at him. Link just smiled in amusement, and shook his head.

“I was going to go through the Academia and Collegia reports this afternoon,” Raiha continued, ignoring both boys pointedly. “There's a _lot_ of them, and I'm trying to narrow down the results so that we don't flood the library and the archives with the helpfully useless.”

“Ah,” Zelda nodded in understanding. “Well, you don't have to stay for the entire meeting, if it helps? The expansion into possible Zora territory is item number three on the agenda.”

“And Mito's not one to babble on endlessly for hours,” Ganon said with a smirk. “His wife might, and some of the people coming with might, but not him.”

Raiha just rolled her eyes heavanward, and silently wondered what she had done to deserve this.

 

–

 

Raiha was yawning a little by the time she was done reading Tetra to sleep with her favorite pirate story, but obligingly headed for Zelda's parlor, absently running a hand through her hair. She hadn't really given thought to her memory book for a long while now, not since she'd recorded the Twilight Tale. Some things she had clung to so fiercely, that imprinting them had been physically and emotionally wearing, but she couldn't recall all of them off the top of her memory. She knew there were pictures of all of them, including Sheik, but it had been long enough that the edges were worn down; finally blunted with the passing of time.

She didn't, after all, peruse the journals as though they were her everything. One couldn't live eternally in the past.

They were waiting for her, with tea and treats; she eyed the treats suspiciously for a moment, then inwardly shook her head. Most of them were her favorites; clearly the trio was prepared for this to be a hard night, and an emotional one. Reflectively, she was glad that the only major thing tomorrow would be reams of paperwork, and the boys doing training work. If it was as bad as they feared, the low-key, normal life would be a much-needed balm.

“All right,” she said, settling in the middle of the couch—the space they had left for her—and grabbing a mug of tea and a small cinnamon bun, “where did you lot leave off with the images?”

Ganon passed her the book, with the marked page, and she flipped it open, then winced, and hastily turned it; seeing Ganondorf's first form was more than abit trying on her mental state, even in these good times.

The next picture was one of a young Link, a blue fairy hovering over his hat; judging by the angle, this was the first meeting, where she had been sitting in a corner of the temple, trying not to hyperventilate. Raiha touched the page lightly, with a small smile.

“He never did find Navi,” she said after a minute, a little sadly. “I've always wondered what happened to her. Trying to find her led him on one hell of an adventure, though. I wish I'd gone with him...”

“Did he tell you about it?” Zelda asked curiously.

Raiha chuckled slightly.

“In grand detail,” she replied. “It's also where I got some of the equipment I still have. The Gilded sword has held up surprisingly well for how long I've had it. I even visited Termina once...”

“Really?”

“Mmhm. I missed the whole four-Link mess because I did,” Raiha shrugged lightly. “Though with four versions of Link running around, I can't say that I was necessary.”

“Four versions of me?” Link blinked, and Raiha grinned a little.

“Uh huh. I'm told it was quite a sight to behold. I missed all of it, though. Took me ages to get back here,” Raiha shook her head a little ruefully. “Still, it was certainly an interesting visit.”

“We have enough trouble with just one Link,” Ganon joked, giving him a light nudge with his elbow. “Four of you would just be overkill.”

Raiha snorted a little. Zelda just shook her head in wry amusement as Link elbowed Ganon back, then yelped as Ganon promptly put him into a headlock and gave him a noogie. Raiha and Zelda exchanged amused looks, then returned to looking at the memory book.

Most memories called up were certainly good ones; playing games in the market, walking across the Hyrule plains, exploring Kakariko... Lon-Lon ranch was pictured, as were the horses. Darunia's scowl made one heck of a first impression and Raiha had to grin a little to remember her old friend. The first tribe that had accepted her for herself, and the first being that had made her wonder what it would be like to know her own father.

Young Ruto's imperious face stared up at them a few times as well, but there were other, mire light-hearted pictures as well; one with half a fish sticking out of her mouth, another where she had gotten stuck in some hole that made Raiha giggle a little.

“We were exploring some of Lake Hylia in the middle of the night; she didn't see it until she fell in, and then I was laughing too hard to help. She was annoyed for an entire week over it.”

Zora's Domain filled the next few pages; looking up at the large waterfall, swimming down to the portal that would take a person across the fields to the lake with no loss of time, playing water tag and the inevitable loss. Even one of looking out at Zora's Domain from _behind_ the waterfall.

“You really do love the place, don't you?” Zelda asked.

Raiha nodded.

“Darunia was my father, and Ruto was my sister,” she said quietly, tracing her fingers over the page lightly. “Zora's Domain was always the more comfortable, though, despite being constantly sopping wet. There's a grand freedom in swimming, in being underwater and not having to come up for air.”

“You probably would've been happier born a Zora,” Ganon said after a minute, his voice more contemplative than anything else.

To their surprise, Raiha shook her head.

“I like being me,” she said simply. “I would rather be me than be another race. Besides, with the Zora Tunic, I can do everything I enjoy, and not worry.”

Zelda chuckled a little, leaning her head fondly against Raiha's shoulder. No doubt there were _other_ reasons why the red-haired woman didn't want to be a Zora, but that was certainly an acceptable deflection. Neither Link nor Ganon seemed inclined to press for a more thorough reason either, and after a moment Raiha turned the page.

Sheik, as a young boy, looked back up at them, and the wistful sadness that crossed Raiha's face had Link leaning against her shoulder as well, trying to offer some comfort. After a moment she lifted a hand and lightly touched the page, then sighed.

“His eyes were perfectly fine,” she grumbled a little. “He thought the ridiculous hairstyle made him look mysterious.”

Ganon snorted in amusement.

“Well, he's _male_. We do crazy things like that.”

It got him the wry look he'd been hoping for, and he mock-preened his own long hair with a grin, then reached over and lightly ran his finger through the hair she'd allowed to grow to shoulder length. There were benefits to being the extremely tall one, and this was definitely one of them; it was made better by the fact that she only gave him a tolerant look instead of moving away.

Pleased with himself, he was more willing to settle in and look at the remaining pictures. And there were still more than a few. The Kokiri forest was interesting, especially the picture of staring up at the dead Deku Tree. That gave both Ganon and Link the chills. It gave them chills of a different sort when Raiha said that Ordon province was where the Kokiri forest had once been, and not even she was certain how that had happened.

Kakariko village, laid out so differently, with a _windmill_ of all things instead of what there was now. The graveyard was the biggest difference of all, and Raiha quickly flipped past that picture with a shiver of her own. She could handle such a thing now, yes, but she would never actually much _like_ it. The graveyard that was part of Kakariko now was actually much softer, much more sad than frightening and heavy, ever since that one large quake that had helped shift the shape of the land so heavily.

The pages after all began taking darker turns. A frozen Zora's Domain was followed by the sight of the sunrise over the mountain, and an older, more mature Sheik, his expression startled. Raiha smiled a little, sadly.

“...has he ever been reborn?” Zelda asked quietly.

“I don't know,” Raiha replied, shrugging lightly. “I know he's not tied to the pattern, so he could have come back, or he could have not. It's all... weird to me. I've never died, so I don't entirely know how the reincarnation cycle works personally. My observations aren't exactly... well... optimistic. And even if he _was_ reincarnated, the soul that was in this timeline is not the same person that was with me in the original line.”

“And that would make all the difference,” Zelda nodded a little in understanding.

“Mmhm.”

Teenaged Link was the net picture, standing next to a strawberry roan mare; the Master Sword's hilt poked over one shoulder, and Navi floated over the other. He was smiling shyly, an expression that wouldn't have looked out of place on a much younger boy. On the teenager, it looked a little bit extra-awkward. Link himself winced a little.

“He slept in the Chamber of Sages for seven years?” he asked.

She nodded.

“He was much more a child than an adult, but he matured greatly in the months it took us to fix the damage Ganondorf had caused.”

Ganon winced a little, and Raiha gave him a dry smile.

“I suppose a very very belated apology wouldn't cut it?” he asked.

That made her laugh a little.

“No, but as we've discovered, you weren't precisely in your right mind. And if we're being _fair_ , it certainly wasn't you that I fought and fled from.”

“There's no pictures of the Sacred Realm, or the Temple of Light?” Zelda asked.

Raiha shook her head a little.

“I pretty much ran through both places, and haven't ever been back since. It was hard enough pummeling my memory to get it down in the journals. Searching for a picture just left me exhausted. I think it's for the best, really. The less people know, the less they can covet what they can't have.”

“Why can't they have it?” Ganon asked curious.

Raiha smiled grimly.

“Because I locked the keys into the Realm _within_ the Realm. If it becomes necessary in the future, the Master Sword can still be freed, but there is no longer a way to fully unlock the door to the Sacred Realm and the Triforce. It's as safe as I can possibly make it.”

“But there's no guarantee...”

She shrugged a little.

“Right now, there's certainly no chance that anyone has the pure ability to break into the Realm,” she replied. “Magic returns, but it does so slowly, and only to those who actually have seeds of it in their blood. It will take much longer than our lifespans for someone to blossom into that sort of magic.”

“Don't you have the power?” Link asked curiously.

Raiha tipped her head slightly in agreement.

“I don't have the desire to go back in, however,” she added. “The wish was made, the doors are locked, and Hyrule will return to a peaceful existence. There's no _need_ for me to go back in, and it would take the strength of myself _and_ the Light Spirits. It would, in all honesty, probably come very close to killing me.”

“...a disquieting thought,” Zelda said, her voice subdued.

Raiha snickered, and turned the page.

There were a handful of temple pictures; the multiple identical paintings of the Forest Temple; Darunia wielding the Megaton Hammer and an intense picture of Darunia facing off against Volvagia. Adult Ruto leading the way through the Water Temple, the shadowy duplicate of Raiha that was quickly turned past, Ruto trapped under the skin of Morpha...

A burning Kakariko was next, followed by an image of Impa fighting stalfos. Zelda-as-Sheik standing up against a wavering form that had risen out of the well, and then Link taking a stance before the disguised princess.

Pictures of the desert followed. The broken bridge, the angry boss carpenter, the Gerudo compound.... the celebrating women, faces somewhat blurred due to time. Link, highlighted by the moonlight coming in through an open window, his expression painfully clear and full of pure longing.

“...what _did_ happen that night?” Ganon asked.

Raiha slanted him an irritated look.

“None of your business.”

He opened his mouth, thought for a moment, then bit back the accusatory words; it was stupid to be jealous of people who were long dead and gone. A soul could be reborn, yes, but the Link sitting beside him was not the _same_ Link that she had fallen in love with so long ago. Though judging by the heavy blush, he could definitely guess where the blond hero's brain had gone.

The next clear image was that of the Desert Colossus, and the former Gerudo king bit back an oath of a different sort this time. He had seen carvings and wood-burned images, but this was the first he'd ever actually _seen_ what his people's temple had looked like.

“And they replaced this with that _prison_?” he demanded, outraged.

“The Gerudo were looking to not just come into Hyrule for lovers, they were thinking they could topple the royal family and take over,” Raiha replied, her expression turning pained. “Some disgruntled Sheikah were also on their side, and they found shadowy allies from... I don't know where, honestly. I advised against this course of action, and in the end my hand was forced.”

He stared at her. Really, all three of them did.

“I _didn't_ build the prison,” she said irritably, correctly gleaning their stunned thoughts. “But I was forced to come down as the hammer of the goddesses. The prison was built by the king of Hyrule at the time, as a warning to not do it again. I was too physically exhausted to tell him that it wouldn't do any good...”

“...what happened?!” Ganon all but demanded. “What did you _do_?”

Her expression closed down immediately.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

That was _not_ an answer, but Ganon bit his tongue anyways. It was helped by Link not-so-subtly planting his elbow in the taller man's side. Zelda only reached out and turned the page, drawing Raiha's attention back to the book.

An Iron Knuckle stared back up at them, and Zelda squeaked a little in surprise.

“That....”

“Looks nothing like a darknut, I know,” Raiha said after a long, icy moment. “They don't much move like them either, but they were, I think the darknut's predecessor. Darknut are more refined than Iron Knuckles, honestly...”

A picture of Nabooru followed, and then one of a woman who shared features with Raiha. Her face was lightly lined with the passage of time, and her eyes were a brighter yellow, while her red hair was a deep dark color, cut short along the back. A scar crossed one cheek, and her expression suggested regret and confusion.

Raiha said nothing, and simply turned the page. The other three exchanged looks, but no one was feeling brave enough to ask.

The pictures of Koume and Kotake made Ganon mutter a quiet oath. There were _his_ mothers, but they looked as wrong as the image of himself had; there was cold malice in their eyes, the looks of people who would stop at nothing to achieve their goals. Twinrova, the combined form of the two old women, was actively disturbing on _many_ levels.

Nabooru on the Spirit Pedestal was followed by the first image of Rauru, in ornate robes that suggested grandeur and the weight of ages.

Next came the pictures of Zelda shedding her disguise inside the Temple of Time, and here Raiha paused with a faint grin.

“I told you that you looked like one of your great gandmothers,” she teased Zelda gently.

Zelda just stared at the page in mild shock.

“Wow,” Link said, glancing from the image to the queen next to Raiha. “That's...wow...”

They were not carbon-copy images, of course. Zelda now had a somewhat sharper face, and of course she wore her hair entirely different. But the resemblance was rather uncanny. Ganon teasingly whistled, making the blonde woman blush, and Raiha snickered a little.

There weren't many pictures after that. Standing at attention in a large, empty room. The castle destroyed. The beast form that Ganondorf had taken.

The last picture was nothing more than golden waves on the page, and after a moment, Raiha gently closed the memory book.

“I'm going to bed,” she said, getting to her feet and stretching out. “I have entirely too much paperwork to sort through tomorrow.”

“Academia or Colegia?” Zelda asked.

“Both,” the redhead groaned. “Remind me again why I thought this was a good idea?”

“Because you saw that the library needed new staff, and that the archives needed rearranging,” Zelda replied, amusement in her voice. “And the best people to do that are the dedicated scholars.”

“...right...”

Link laughed a little, and got up himself, followed by Ganon, who had a contemplative look on his face. He was going to have to think long and hard about certain things that had been revealed... and to that end, he was the first to leave the room, after dropping perfunctory kisses on everyone's heads. Raiha gathered up her journals after a moment of thought, then gave both Link and Zelda a kiss on the cheek before she too left, more than ready to get some sleep at a decent-ish hour.

Link and Zelda looked at each other for several minutes.

“Things... make a lot more sense now,” he confessed after a moment. “Being so attached to her... I was always fond of her, even as a kid, but...”

Zelda nodded in understanding.

“To know that we share things in common with the people she first loved is a bit disconcerting, but she is... happier now, I think,” she replied thoughtfully. “It would be nice if we could round things out, but...”

Link smiled a little, nodding.

“It would. Even if it's not entirely the same. I mean, we're not the same as they were, but...”

“But she loves us anyways, in her own fashion,” Zelda finished. “I suppose the best we can do is keep an eye and an ear out for someone like that. After all, _we_ are named for our ancestors. It may be that someone else might follow suit.”

“Or felt the impulse to name their son that,” Link replied with a little grin. “It's not like we don't have people with _weirder_ names.”

Zelda giggled.

“You have new recruits to train tomorrow, don't you?”

He nodded, and she kissed his cheek.

“Then you should get some sleep yourself. Sleep well, dear.”

He blushed a little, then nodded.

“You too, Zelda.”

 

 


	22. Epilogue 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda and Raiha get some time alone

 Epilogue 2

 

Catching a moment alone with Raiha was only occasionally an easy task. As queen of the realm, Zelda worked long hours on many different things, and also tended to fit in time for physical training, plus the need to care for her daughter, even as Tetra was starting to become a more independent little girl.

Not to mention Raiha had her own duties; she was the Royal Sage, and as such, her domain was the library and the archives, both areas which had been allowed to fall into a somewhat complicated, chaotic morass of things. The archives were the worst, really; that was the place where the items that were not precisely relevant, but had historical importance were stored, after all. Ancient texts and paintings, carved stone, even a handful of fragile, powerful jewelry was in there.

So Raiha certainly had her hands full trying to catalog and organize it all.

Still, they managed it every now and again. Usually by complete accident, as was the current case; Zelda was in her study with some paperwork, and Raiha had come in seeking—again—a particular book from the much more meticulously organized shelves.

Zelda paused in her work as Raiha craned her neck to the side, reading titles, and stifled a giggle. There really was something funny about seeing her former teacher and current lover scowling at book spines in search of one or two in particular for whatever reason.

“It was either come up here, or try to go through the library mess,” Raiha said, without even glancing her way.

“And of course the library mess gets worse because you haven't yet produced a functional cataloging system for the books?” Zelda teased gently.

“Guilty as charged. It would be easier if the library was smaller...”

“What about those people you asked the Academia and Collegia for?”

Raiha straightened her neck with a grimace, snagging a book, then went and sat on the couch that was bathed in sunlight from the nearby large window.

“They sent me lists. Both of them. At least _ten_ _pages_ worth of lists. Each! That is _entirely_ too many people, so I sent back notes suggesting that they narrow it down to people who will treat the books with care, can follow instructions, and won't be too annoyed by taking instruction from a woman who only looks half their age, in the case of some of them.”

Zelda laughed a little, and joined Raiha on the couch.

“Are you ever going to let any of them in on the joke?”

Raiha blinked at Zelda, then burst out laughing. Zelda gave a pleased smile; it was rare to make Raiha so happy, so she cherished every minute.

“Oh yes, explain that I've lived centuries, and have more experiences in my pinky than all of them _combined!_ ” The redhead continued chortling a little longer, then shook her head. “No way in hell. No one would believe me anyways.”

“But it would be so _fun_ ,” now Zelda was grinning, all sense of decorum gone in her desire to see more of Raiha's smile. “It could be a useful limitus test as well, seeing who believed you, and who laughed it off.”

“Pffft. Zellie, you have a _weird_ idea of fun some days, you know that, right?”

“Well, I _do_ have a five-year-old daughter.”

Raiha snickered a little, nodding.

“Just wait, soon she's going to have a baby brother and sister, and _then_ it'll get crazy.”

“Have you decided on names?”

“I've been considering Bel for the boy and Naila for the girl,” Raiha said thoughtfully. “I've also considered naming her after my mother, but...”

“But?” Zelda prompted when Raiha didn't continued.

“I....” Raiha looked a bit sheepish. “I don't actually remember her name.”

“It's in the journal,” Zelda said after a moment.

“It is?”

“Mmhm. It was... um...” Zelda frowned a little in thought. “S... Sovye.”

Raiha blinked, leaning back a little on the couch, then tipped her head slightly in thought.

“...maybe if I have another girl in the future,” she finally said.

“Don't you want your mother's name to live on?” Zelda asked curiously.

“It's... complicated,” Raiha admitted after a moment. “I want to love her, and I know she saved my life, but there's still childish resentment, even after all this time. She abandoned me in favor of the baby brother I never knew, and then when we met again, said brother was all she could talk about.”

Zelda leaned lightly against Raiha's shoulder, looking up into the redhead's face. Her expression was pensive, not really upset, but not really happy either. Conflicted, Zelda decided finally, wanting to be mature, but also wanting some validation for the emotions that existed.

So she loosely looped an arm through Raiha's, and hugged. Raiha blinked in surprise and looked down at Zelda curiously.

“It's all right to be resentful,” the blonde woman said serenely. “You were only a child, and she left you to survive on your own. You weren't exactly given a choice in the matter either; you were taken away from your family and friends. Being unhappy about what happened would be a natural response, no matter how kind-hearted you were, and well-intentioned your mother was.”

Raiha's smile was dry.

“And I wouldn't exactly have called myself kind-hearted,” she pointed out. “I was a selfish little eight year old kid.”

“Exactly,” Zelda nodded a little. “It's not really surprising to consider the idea that you might have abandonment issues, especially considering _precisely_ how long you've lived, dear.”

Raiha blinked, leaning back a little from her lover, and her expression suggested to Zelda that she was considering the idea quite seriously.

“....I suppose you have a point,” she said, sounding a little surprised. “I... I never really thought about it like that.”

“You've never had a reason too,” Zelda replied gently. “Survival may have taken on a different meaning while you were alone, but all the same, everyone was growing older and dying, and leaving you behind.”

The redhead was contemplatively quiet for a minute, then leaned her head lightly against Zelda's.

“It's likely part of the reason you end up going off by yourself when things get too emotionally intense for you,” the queen continued, snuggling a little. “You've had to learn how to take care of yourself for so long, that letting others in just got too hard.”

Raiha snorted a little, and her smile turned wry.

“I did figure that part out for myself, Zellie,” she replied dryly. “Unfortunately, it's not exactly easy to counter centuries of solitude with a few years of togetherness. I might not _ever_ manage to be wholly comfortable with letting anyone accurately see me. It's hard enough with the three of you...”

“Especially when we gang up on you,” Zelda said with a wry smile of her own.

“Ganon looking all annoyed because I won't talk, Link with the kicked puppy look, and you with your infinite patience all at the same time don't help, no,” Raiha chuckled ruefully. “I know it's not entirely _fair_ of me either, to expect you all to cater to my emotional state of mind.”

Zelda tried to think of a polite way to agree, without sounding like she was, and apparently her expression gave her away because Raiha only laughed again, and patted her on the head.

“Relax Zellie. You don't always have to be diplomatic with everyone, you know. You're welcome to tell me I'm a horribly selfish person; goddesses know I probably am.”

Zelda blinked, and shook her head quickly.

“If you were selfish, you probably couldn't have made the wish for Hyrule, whatever it was,” she protested.

“Well, no, I could have. All that matters to the metaphysical thing that is the Triforce is if you have all three pieces together. It can be brought together in force or in harmony, the magic doesn't _care_. The magic simply _is_ , and selfish or selfless isn't really a factor of anything. I could have made a wish entirely for myself and it would have been allowed because I was the one with the Triforce.”

Zelda blinked a couple of times, a little dismayed that her attempts at a protest had been so easily dismantled. Raiha chuckled faintly.

“Not that I don't appreciate the effort you're going to; I do. But there's conjecture, and there's fact, Zellie, and the fact of the matter is that I am _not_ the best person in the world. I am the oldest, and the most exhausted. Definitely not the best. No one can really be the best person in the world, because that opinion is such a _subjective_ thing. All we can do is the best we personally can.”

“Well, I know Tetra thinks you're the best bedtime story reader,” Zelda said after a moment. “And no doubt when your babies are born, you'll be the best mother for them.”

“Don't sell yourself short,” Raiha gently tugged at Zelda's loose hair. “You're a good mother, and really, only you can give Tetra the lessons in being a ruler she'll need when she gets older. I'll be more than happy to teach almost everything I know to however many children we end up with, but we both know there's going to be some small divide.”

“...because my children will be royalty, and yours will not.”

Raiha nodded.

“And that's fine,” she pointed out. “They're all going to be siblings, and sibling rivalries are a thing. We'll just have to make sure than no one tries pulling the “I'm a royal princess and you have to do as I say” card.”

Zelda blushed, and Raiha grinned knowingly.

“You thought I'd forgotten that, huh?”

“....I had hoped, yes.”

“Hey, you grew out of it. And with both Ganon and Link for fathers, it's not hard to conceive of the idea that they'll all be good-hearted, troublemaking children.”

Zelda considered this idea, and her current child, then sighed a little. No doubt Raiha was right; Ganon had a mischievous streak a mile wide, where Link was still surprisingly pure, despite everything he'd born witness to. Raiha snickered a little.

“Do you think there will be more?”

“...well, I wouldn't mind a big family,” Raiha admitted. “Goodness knows you have the room for it. How many is up to us, and the future. If you just want to have Tetra, that's certainly your prerogative.”

“I wouldn't mind more,” Zelda said thoughtfully. “Just... spaced out so that we don't have too many babies running around underfoot at the same time. Multiple teething children all at once would be... a bit much, don't you think?”

Raiha laughed a little.

“Probably. Though we'll get to experience teething twins first hand. I suspect after that, we'll be able to figure things out well enough.”

“Well, we've always managed to do good thus far. I think.”

“You've done fine, Zellie,” Raiha said reassuringly. “There's really no right way to be a parent. Granted there are plenty of _wrong_ ways, but really, you're doing fine.”

“Something you learned...?”

“While I was getting the education I missed with my people, yeah,” she half shrugged. “Still not even okay with what happened to the male children, but hopefully whatever remains of my people out there in the desert have changed that for the better. The point being, I saw a lot of different types of mother while I was there. There were smothery mothers, stand-offish mothers, mothers who managed to blend the difference, mothers who prorbaly shouldn't have been mothers, so thank Nayru for the aunts....”

“You're worried about being a mother, aren't you?” Zelda asked.

“Eh.... I'm more worried about how _tiny_ babies are,” Raiha admitted with a little shrug. “How small and fragile.... it's unnerving.”

“Yes, but they grow so quickly,” Zelda smiled fondly. “Soon enough, they start walking and talking, and Tetra will be grown before I know it...”

Raiha couldn't help but chuckle.

“And this is why taking the moment is the way I prefer to live. Speaking of, we seem to have some free time. Why don't we go interrupt Tetra's lessons and take her down to the lake to play with the Zora?”

Zelda tipped her head a little, considering, then glanced between the paperwork and her slightly mischievously grinning lover. After a moment she chuckled and sat up.

“All right. Let's go have some fun while the weather remains so lovely.”


	23. Epilogue 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares bring Ganon to Raiha's room, as usual.

Epilogue 3

 

The midnight hour was not typically a busy one. The guard was tighter, and much more disciplined, and there were a handful of servants and cooks that were available for people who were up late—or early, depending on their schedule of sleep.

So it was relatively easy for Ganon to slip through the halls, unnoticed, and make his way down to Raiha's rooms. He didn't _often_ do this, no, but it hadn't been a particularly _good_ day, and it had been followed by an even rougher dream.

Raiha understood dreams like this, more than Link or Zelda, so it was to Raiha he went. He was never sure just _how_ she knew he was heading her way, but he'd stopped questioning it after the first 'I know a secret' smile she had given in response to the question.

It was an annoying smile sometimes, it really was. And yet at other times it was entirely too enticing...

He shook his head a little, approaching her door with caution; the last thing he needed was another six-hour static-fest, no matter how much it might make her laugh.

To his great fortune—as was often the case after a nightmare like the last—the ward was not active, and he simply walked in after a perfunctory knock. He liked his room with its opulent size and room to spread out, but there was something comforting about Raiha's; maybe it was the way she insisted on cleaning it herself, and kept it in a state of organized chaos. Maybe it was the great lengths she'd gone to to cover stone walls and floors in things that would keep the heat in and the chill at bay.

Whatever the reason, it was comforting to walk into the room, close the door behind him, and see a tray of treats waiting, along with the redhead herself laying sprawled out on her couch. She looked comfortably mussed, and if he had to guess, she'd been dozing there for probably about an hour. Not that it made much of a difference to the snacks; magic was entirely useful, and she was not above using it for small things as well as big ones. Keeping a pot of tea or hot chocolate warm was legitimate child's play to her.

It was rather funny, really; she was utterly in love with swimming, and found great freedom in the water, but the spells that came most naturally to here were all fire-based.

He looked at the couch thoughtfully, then came over and lifted up her feet so he could sit on it. She responded by simply draping her legs across his lap, and if that wasn't significant considering how they'd started, he wasn't sure what was.

It was a comfortable silence they shared; he was pretty sure she was on her way to falling back to sleep. Being pregnant, he'd noticed, took a lot of energy out of her. Seeing her sleep was a rare thing in and of itself; it was a state of vulnerability that he'd only seen once, and that one time had been far too close to her death for his liking.

He reached out and collected one mug of tea for himself, and stared thoughtfully at the magical flames. They were blue tonight, with a small hint of purple. She wasn't happy, then; usually the fire color was changed at a whim, but he'd notice it often represented in some small part how she was feeling. After a moment he glanced over at her, and saw that her eyes were opened just enough to look at him, and the faint flicker of amber was somehow captivating.

Wordlessly, he reached out and snagged the more delicate porcelain cup that was filled with hot chocolate, and handed it to her. She took it slowly, then sat up a little more so she could sip without spilling.

“Bel and Naila?” he finally asked, needing to say something, but unwilling to speak of the reason he was there just yet.

“I like them,” she said mildly. “It will be interesting to see who takes after whom.”

“Meaning...?”

“Meaning I don't know which one of you fathered them, of course,” she snorted a little, but there was a slightly amused smile on her face. “Really, despite surprising me, Tetra did me a favor. Names are always difficult, and I'd probably have been struggling with them for weeks more if she hadn't been able to tell me what the babies will be.”

“You, indecisive?” Now it was _his_ turn to snort.

She chuckled slightly.

“Believe it or not, this is perhaps the only thing I didn't have plans for, smartass,” she replied dryly, lightly nudging him with one foot. “My original plan was get the Triforce, make the wish, and then let the world go. You idiots got me entirely to attached and interested in seeing what would happen next.”

The idea of her dying was still chilling, and he reflexively tightened his grip on the mug of tea.

“Relax, Red,” she rolled her eyes a little. “I don't have plans to kick the bucket any time soon. There's more reason to stay alive than there is to let go. So get that look off your face.”

Ganon made a face at her in response, and she smiled slightly in dry amusement. He studied her face silently, admiring the flickering light that caught the red-gold hair and made it glimmer.

“You had a rough day too?” he asked after a minute.

“Mmn. I haven't really been feeling well, and a headache set in around noon,” she sighed a little. “It wasn't at all helped by having a series of people yapping at me for being too particular about the people I want in my archives. Pardon _me_ if I don't trust ham-fisted idiots with delicate documents that I want to catalog, preserve, and properly organize. There's history in there, along with the redundant, and I'd like to know what's what before I let some people come in and look over the treasures of the kingdom, thank you.”

Ganon nodded a little, understanding her consternation. The library was comfortable enough, but everything in the library was either modern, or less than a century old. There wasn't much to worry about there; in the archives, there were a few items that dated back to the sundering of the Triforce, preserved between glass plates instead of by magic, and written in languages that were all but lost to the modern scholar.

She got pretty possessive over old things, probably because she could both read them, and because history was something a person had to remember, else they would end up repeating it. At least, that was what he remembered her saying when he'd asked a while back. He didn't doubt there were other reasons, but accepting the answers she gave was his way of giving her space.

“Any luck on getting the Colegia and the Academia to pare down their suggested candidates?”

She sighed in exasperation, scowling a little; he rested one hand on her leg in response.

“They are very put out that I won't accept all of them, and sent my five pages each with names. Still entirely too many. I told them the most I would be willing to entertain is fifteen.”

“That'll give you thirty people to weed through still,” he pointed out.

“Yes, but it's a much smaller number, and I can do that easily enough. I also added that they need to be accompanied by letters of introduction,” she smirked a little, and sipped her chocolate. “I don't expect all of them will get one, so it's a test to see who follows instructions.”

“...you are devious and kind of terrifying,” Ganon said after a minute, eyeing her a bit warily.

Raiha laughed softly, and saluted him a little mockingly with her cup.

“Thanks. I try.”

“The hell you do,” he grumbled.

That just made her laugh again.

“Implying that this sort of thing comes naturally is a bit much, even for you, Red,” she said with a faint grin. “That's almost a compliment.”

“And I'm not allowed to give those?”

“They're not typically directed at me,” she pointed out.

That gave him pause for thought, and he leaned back a little, thoughtfully. After a moment he shrugged.

“Point to you,” he replied. “You're not exactly _easy_ to compliment, you know.”

“I am, by nature, a very difficult woman, yes,” she agreed, her expression wry. “There's always a point to that.”

He made another face at her. She made one back. It was strangely comforting, and he pondered that for a moment; she approached them all in such different ways, and when they were all together the amalgamation of who she was was so different from when they were alone.

“I can hear you thinking,” she said, her voice dry.

“No you can't.”

“I really can. It's all over your face, Red.”

He frowned.

“All right, tell me what I'm thinking,” he challenged.

She handed back her cup, and he returned it to the table since she hadn't asked for more.

“You're thinking about the way I'm different for each of you,” she replied, a smirk crossing her face as he choked lightly on his tea. “And leaving out the fact that all of you approach me in very different ways as well. It's a mental dodge to keep your mind off of whatever bad dream you had, since you're not ready to talk about it.”

Ganon couldn't help but stare at her. She grinned.

“I have _centuries_ of reading minute facial expressions,” Raiha pointed out, amusement in her voice as well as her face. “And you're still not as controlled as you think you are. It's not a bad thing, you know. Zelda could probably do it too, but she's the only one. You're not exactly trying to _hide_ what you're thinking from me either. If you were, I might have to work at it.”

Despite himself, he chuckled a little, tipping his head slightly to acknowledge that she'd made her point.

“What are the difference?” he asked curiously.

“You sure you want to know?”

“.....maybe?”

She laughed a little, and gave him a gently nudge with her feet.

“Isn't that the part that always gets you into trouble more than out of it?” she asked.

The question was plainly rhetorical, not to mention one he didn't feel like answering, so he poked her thigh. After a moment she shrugged, and tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

“Zelda is soft,” she said contemplatively. “Oh, not around her nobles, no, she has a steel spine and no give when she doesn't want to, but alone, and in private, she feels the freedom to _be_ soft, and it's that gentility that I appreciate. She's privileged, so getting her to truly understand the difficulties can be a bit of a pain in the ass, but I'll credit her with the fact that she _does_ try; most of the time, just her trying is what I need.

“Link is pure. It's funny, really, how that trait has stuck with him in every incarnation I've ever met. He's not entirely black and white in terms of things, but he mostly deals in absolutes. It's part of what _keeps_ him pure, and his kindness is not a weakness. It's... hard to explain,” she admitted with a faint frown. “Maybe it's because he's always been the Hero. He always does what's right, and he always speaks up when he thinks something is particularly unfair. He's fun to tease, but easy to distress, and...”

After a moment she just shook her head.

“He's Link. It's enough.”

Ganon watched her face as she spoke; her guard was not down—he wasn't sure it would ever fully _be_ down—but she was letting him see more than she showed while they were in public. Her expression was softer, warmer. He hesitated to call it kind, because she often refused to use the word for herself, but there was a gentility there that wasn't often evident. He wondered if this was a facet of her pregnancy, or if she was finally starting to lower the impenetrable walls that had protected her heart for so long.

“As for you...” her eyes focused on him, and there was resigned humor there. “You're still difficult. You're not the enemy anymore, but sometimes I have trouble remembering that. It's easier to argue with you than it is to be gentle. I am sorry about that, by the way. Like I told Zelda, it's hard to correct centuries of behavior...”

“You're trying though.”

“Naturally. If I wasn't, we wouldn't be remotely friendly, let alone everything else that's happened.”

He grinned a little, amused by the way she avoided specifying the intimate acts they'd performed together. She huffed a little, then shrugged lightly.

“You deserved a chance to prove me wrong. You've done that rather admirably, to be honest, and while you _occasionally_ make me want to light you on fire, most of the time, you're a decent, honest person. Plus, it's fun to try and help you do magic.”

“...you mean it's fun to watch me blow shit up.”

She grinned unrepentantly.

“Yes.”

It was his turn to huff a little, though it was mostly theatrical, and earned him an amused chuckle.

“....I have to ask... back when you first agreed to stay, why _did_ you start letting me come in after the... nightmares?” Ganon said after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Because I know what it's like to dream horrible things and have nowhere to go,” she replied, amusement fleeing. “To remember every bad thing in nebulous detail and not have someone who understands. I didn't necessarily _like_ you at the time, but you needed someone who could understand. Nayru knows that's an aspect of my life that's never going to leave, no matter how old I get. The memories just get more faded..... That makes the worse, rather than better, honestly.”

He thought about it, then grimaced, nodding. It was one thing to have a definable horror, to be able to put a face to the issue. A nebulous, tentative unknown was an exercise in frustration and futility.

“You don't go to anyone, do you?” he asked.

Raiha shook her head.

“You could come to me.”

Her smile was dry.

“You sleep like a rock, Red.”

Ganon blinked.

“You tried?”

She chuckled faintly, and he couldn't help being relieved when she shook her head. To have slept through her coming to him, instead of the other way around, would have been a poor way of showing his appreciation for what she did during these midnight sessions.

“You should. You let me come here.”

“Yes, because _you_ need it. Despite all the intense shit you've suffered, you're still very _Gerudo_ in how you handle trauma. You reach out, seeking solace from someone who's had similar experiences, or at the least won't smother you with sympathy. In this case, me,” Raiha shrugged a little. “Conversely, I spent a good two, three centuries learning distance from others. Learning how to _not_ care, how to not try and find someone because no one is there that fully _can_ understand. They were born, they lived, they died. I didn't.”

“...that's... lonely.”

She shrugged a little.

“It can be. But it's not a terrible way to live, once you get used to it.”

He grimaced a little.

“I wouldn't _want_ to get used to it,” Ganon said firmly. “It's bad enough that you _are_.”

She just gave him a faint, tired smile that held a weight of ages. He doubted it was a conscious choice on her part because after a moment she looked away, towards the flames. Another few moments passed in silence, before she swung her legs off his lap and sat up, stretching a little with a grimace.

He noticed the gap she left between them when she moved over to reach for the cookies on the tray. It was smaller than usual, and after a moment he closed it, scooting until their hips touched. She didn't even glance at him, but he thought he saw a small line of tension leak away from her shoulders, even as she leaned back with her treat. The fact that he casually put his arm in the way of that lean was not, in _any_ way, influenced by her hint of relaxation. Nope. Not at all. He just... didn't want her to forget the couch was backless, and fall. That was it.

The look she slanted him was amused and knowing, and he pretended not to see it. If he couldn't get away with overt concern—and he knew he couldn't, especially when she didn't want it—pretending to be casual about it would allow him some measure of leeway.

She was apparently in an obliging mood; she simply started in on her treat. The air of the room returned to a calm patience, the kind that said she had plenty of time to wait. Ganon turned his eyes to the fire, which was now a mix of greens, blues, and purples, then moved a few centimeters closer, reflexively tightening his hold as he allowed the darkness of the dream to return to his thoughts.

It was softer now, thanks to her willingness to talk on other subjects. She was surprisingly good at that, he'd found. No doubt more byproduct of centuries on her own.

“It was dark,” he said lowly. “But there was... a pulse to it. Somewhere between lava and heartbeat, I think... It wasn't... _hot_ , but it was definitely warm. Almost the desert, but not entirely. I could feel the sand scraping my skin, but I don't think it was sand...

“I saw... Zelda. I think? A version of her, anyways. Turned to stone.” He paused, then shook his head. “No, turned to ice. Or glass, maybe. Definitely not _alive_ in any sense of the word. Link was... broken. Bloody.... dying.”

He shuddered a little. If someone had told him back when he'd asked his mothers for power that he would one day end up here, caring about what happened to _any_ Hylian, he would have laughed himself sick. Now, the idea of Zelda or Link dying—especially the nightmares where they died by his hands—made him vaguely ill. Anyone who meant them harm would have to go through him first. Assuming they got past Raiha, of course...

“He gave me such an accusatory look. Like everything hat had happened was all my fault! Then the ground opened up beneath me and there was that damned _laugh_.... Next thing I know, I'm falling out of the bed all tangled up in the sheets again...”

“I keep telling you that you should put your mattress on the floor,” she said, a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. That she wasn't laughing outright was nice, but he knew she wanted too. Hell, if it had been the other way around, he probably would be laughing at her! “Or make a blanket nest.”

He made a slight face at her, and jolted a little when she slid an arm around his waist and started lightly running her palm along his back. There was nothing sensual in the contact, and this wasn't the first time, but it was always somewhat surprising to be on the receiving end of her kindness instead of her mockery. Granted the mockery had become much more gentle in the last five years, but still.

“The only way anyone hurts them is through us,” she said quietly, firmly. “And it will be a cold day in the hells when that happens. The chances now are marginal at best at that; between us, we could lay down a magical whammy that three-times-grandkids would feel, never mind what we can do with swords and skills.”

It made him crack a slight smile, the gloom fading under the very genuine reassurance. It would almost be funny to see someone try, but not enough that he'd welcome a threat to any of them. The four of them were a family grouping, surprisingly as flexible as what little he could recall from his own past, if much more eclectic in terms of race.

“You're not alone, you know,” he said abruptly.

“I know. But it's not easy. Knowing up here,” and she tapped her head slightly, then her chest, “is not the same as knowing in here. It may not ever match up, no matter how hard I try. It's just.... who I am now.”

He thought for a moment, then pulled her that little bit closer.

“...as annoying as you are,” his words made her snicker a little, and lean lightly against him, “I do like you. I just... if you ever _do_ have a night where...”

She looked up at him as he faltered; offering support to someone who was practically a pillar was vaguely discomforting, really. After a moment Raiha nodded a little, saving him from having to complete the sentence.

“I'll keep it in mind,” she said. “Feeling better now?”

Ganon thought for a moment, then nodded. He _did_ feel better now that he'd gotten a chance to sit down and talk to her about more than just the dreams.

“...d'you ever wonder...?” he began.

“The days I don't wonder what might've happened if I'd taken a different step are numerous, Ganon,” she said dryly, a little tiredly. “But this was where I was needed, and this was the world I could fix.”

“Y'know... if he ever shows up...”

She shook her head, sharply.

“Don't make a promise if you don't know you can't keep it,” she said, all traces of warmth and sympathy instantly gone. “Don't _ever.”_

The moment was gone, he knew, and he mentally winced a little; he'd been doing so good up until that point too. It figured that the touchiest of subjects would be that one. He hesitated for a minute, then carefully withdrew his arm and got to his feet.

“Sorry, Rai,” he said as he stood.

“...yes, I know. Get some better sleep now; tomorrow's another busy day, after all.”

He grimaced. Nodded. And left the room.

-

 

Raiha leaned back on the couch with a pained sigh. Couldn't _any_ of them leave the topic of Sheik well enough alone? She wanted to have all of them as a group, goddesses but did she ever want that... but she was not young enough to allow herself to hope for that as a gift of any sort, and she was logical enough to understand that not every soul was libel to be reincarnated when the connection was tenuous at best.

She shook her head after a minute and piled up the dishes, taking them out to the dumbwaiter to return to the kitchen before heading back into her own room and falling into a lonely darkness of her own.

 

 


	24. Epilogue 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Private time with Link

 Epilogue 4

 

The best and fastest way to get Raiha to cheer up after a hard week was to take her down to Lake Hylia to go swimming. Link probably knew this better than anyone; water had always calmed Raiha the best, and given that the week had begun with the memory book for her, and ended by devolving into the busiest, messiest affair of annoyance he could recall happening in the past ten years—saving the realm didn't count, since that was something on an entirely different level—going to the lake was a natural matter of time.

Presenting himself as her partner to _go_ to Lake Hylia, now that had been tricky and took a bit more effort. She hadn't been pleased to see him waiting with horses saddled and ready, but Link knew that Ganon had wanted time to himself after such a hectic week, while Zelda wanted to spend half the day with Tetra. Since he wanted to spend time with Raiha, it seemed to work out perfectly.

Even if Raiha had plainly not wanted him to tag along.

She had glared at him for half the ride, which hadn't really helped things any, but once she was in the cool water, he watched as the tension simply melted away. He wasn't precisely in the mood to swim, but watching her be happy was one of the more enjoyable things he could come up with; when Raiha was happy, everything did seem a little brighter. It wasn't the same as when Ganon or Zelda were happy; getting them to smile wasn't so hard. Getting Raiha to smile was a matter of patience, timing, and figuring out just when to approach.

But when she did, oh...

Link sputtered a little as she splashed him in the face, and her grin was wicked when he could see again.

“You,” she pointed at him as she floated effortlessly in the water, “are being more melancholic than I am. And that's _saying_ something. What's on your mind?”

“Nothing?” he offered.

“And I'm Zelda. Really now, what's wrong?”

Link shook his head a little, feeling a bit sheepish. After a moment, Raiha hauled herself out of the water with a faint grimace, putting one hand on her belly as she did. He offered her his arm, and after a few seconds, she accepted his help.

“I'm so giving birth in water,” she muttered rebelliously. “I feel entirely too ungainly on land.”

Link gave her a sympathetic look, blushing a bit as she stripped off her soaked clothing, then wrapped up in the large towel she'd brought specifically for that purpose. He didn't turn away these days, but it was still a bit on the embarrassing side just how casual and cavalier she was about nudity.

“You've matured,” she teased. “But not all the way.”

He blushed a little more and sat down next to her in front of Lanayru's shrine.

“So?”

Link hesitated.

“It's... the story,” he admitted after a moment. “Your story....”

Raiha cocked her head at him, expression neutral.

“I wish you could have told it,” he blurted out. “It felt like... like being a... a pervert, or a voyeur!”

It was clear by the way her eyes widened that she hadn't expected _that_ from him. He saw the corners of her mouth twitch a little, almost like she wanted to laugh.

“Honestly, I wouldn't have been able to,” she said after a moment, her voice steady. “I don't remember much any more beyond the few moments I cling to and revisit as much as possible. Even then, everything is so faded... I wouldn't have been useful for much, and pardon me if I don't want to reintegrate certain memories again.”

Link looked down at his feet, dangling in the clear, cool water.

“You could have left,” she continued, her voice gentling some. “If it bothered you that much, you didn't _have_ to stay.”

He blushed, and ducked his head a little; the thought _had_ occurred to him.

“....didn't want to upset them,” he mumbled.

 _Now_ she chuckled.

“You are entirely too ridiculous for your own good, Link,” she said wryly. “They wouldn't have thought less of you for leaving; _I_ wouldn't have thought less of you for leaving either, though I wouldn't have been receptive to your company either.”

He grimaced slightly, then sighed. Raiha chuckled again, and he glanced up as she shook her head in clear amusement.

“I gave permission for you all to hear it, and to know. I can't _tell_ the story any longer, but I can gift it. Granted, without Ganon, it probably would have taken you and Zelda much longer; there's not a lot of Gerudo writing in the archives.”

“Is that one of the things you want to change?”

She nodded, a faintly pleased smile crossing her face.

“Gerudo aren't of Hyrule. But we can be friends. And if they return in the future, if, by some miracle they still live out in the farther reaches of the desert, Hylians ought to have some knowledge of who and what they are. There's no harm in knowing the language, in being able to write it and read the stories...”

He liked seeing her like this; excited for something positive instead of set for something negative. It was like the weight of ages simply melted away, and he could see glimpses of the young woman she must have been all those centuries ago. It was a bit strange to reconcile the woman of the story to the woman who sat before him, but in moments like this...

“And this way, the children that take after myself and Ganon will know the Gerudo part of their heritage.”

Link jolted slightly, brought out of his musings at her words.

“Do you think.... do you think there will be a lot of resemblance?”

She laughed then, and he blushed as he realized how silly the question was. Raiha's open amusement was not unkind, however, and while he was embarrassed, he knew—he could see—that she found the question cute rather than stupid.

“Well, when Red and I have kids, they'll be Gerudo clean through,” Raiha explained. “The red hair, yellow eyes, and brown skin are our dominant physical traits. Any children I have with you, or Zelda with Ganon, will have _some_ Gerudo traits, though I don't know if they'll be like me, or something different. When it came to my people, it didn't seem to matter who the father was; we all turned out the way we are. I suppose we'll just have to wait and see.”

“You... want more?” he hedged.

Raiha nodded.

“Zelda and I spoke of it, and she doesn't mind the idea of a large family. Just not all at once. I suspect Ganon would like to see many daughters and sons running around being impish Gerudo children; he feels the weight of guilt over what happened very keenly. Whether it's justifiable or not, I know part of him wants to have _very_ Gerudo children, and encouraging them to go to the desert would probably not be beyond him.

“Regardless, I actually agree with Zelda; spacing out the births of the children is fine by me, and I look forward to seeing how many we actually end up with. A pack of royalty and not will be an interesting, good family, so long as we raise them all properly.”

Link nodded a little; he still was unsure about how good of a father he was, but both Raiha and Zelda seemed to think he was doing just fine with Tetra. Tetra herself seemed convinced that he was an okay parent as well; it wasn't to Ganon she ran when she skinned her knees, after all.

He startled a little when Raiha edged over so that she could leaned her head against his lightly.

“You worry too much,” she informed him a little tartly. “Don't get yourself mired in 'what if'; that's my job, and right now the only what if I'm indulging is in relation to who the Collegia and the Academia are going to send me.”

“Ah... are they still...?”

“Mmhm. Invitations to the archives are in short supply, even if the public library is open to everyone.” He glanced up and caught the smirk crossing her face. “I certainly have ideas on how to deal with the potential idiocy, but I'm cautiously hopeful that I'll get actual scholars who care about the knowledge and its preservation. If nothing else, it'll cut down on potential headaches.”

He couldn't help but smile.

“You could have waited until after...”

She shook her head lightly.

“I'll be too busy with the twins after they're born,” she pointed out. “For several months, until they grow enough that sleeping through the night isn't impossible. I'd rather it be done with now, so that it's one less thing I have to worry about.”

“When are they going to show up?”

Raiha shrugged lightly.

“Soon.”

He poked her gently; she poked back with a faint smile.

“Yes, I know when they're showing up, now, I don't want anyone tagging along. It's my domain, and they'll learn that from day one, or they'll go away. Having one of you three there would only be confusing. _After_ a pecking order is established, I'll go about letting you three watch.”

He giggled a little.

“Naturally, you'll be on top of the heap?”

“It's _my_ archives, so yes,” she said dryly. “Did you bring food? I'm starving.”

“Of course I brought food,” he replied, obediently getting to his feet at her unspoken words. “I figured you'd want to be out here all day, so I made sure to bring _lots_ of food.”

“You also anticipate Zellie and Ganon joining us at some point, don't you?”

He blushed a little, but nodded; if there was one thing they could all agree on, it was that the lake was a really nice place to relax, and swimming was a good way to wear down a host of nervous energy. Raiha's smile was knowing.

“Well, I'm hungry, so I'm going to eat something before I get back in the water. They'll get here when they get here, after all, and when they _do_ , it's bound to go from calm to chaos.”

Nodding, Link led the way to where the horses were picketed.


End file.
